


never, sometimes, always (enough)

by catastrophes



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, Slow Burn, beautiful mv verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophes/pseuds/catastrophes
Summary: the inevitability of fallingalternatively, a story of how seongwu and minhyun come together





	1. never

**Author's Note:**

> this (very slow burn) journey was born from my [anger](https://twitter.com/infede/status/930004479163842560) after being inspired by the [beautiful mv](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4_tHTmniw4) and [this prompt](https://twitter.com/infede/status/930010605896974339) i came up with. the bulk of this fic stemmed rather from my mind's own interpretation of the base story and deviates slightly from the plot of the mv. some references were adapted from the film midnight runners. i also kept ong's last name just in case you’re confused. 
> 
> [ ♪ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBruJFiWTos) \- coming home ; jj project
> 
> get something to eat, bc 42k. i surprised myself. hope you enjoy this.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s the entrance ceremony for the Korean National Police University, when Seongwu first notices Minhyun long before the other even sees him.

Seongwu is not entirely sure why his attention gets pulled towards the other man. He is just a mere stranger to him at that point but he is hard to overlook when he stands there on his own, back ramrod straight, a mirror to Seongwu’s own current circumstance.  

Seongwu does come to the conclusion however, that it’s the only similarity between the pair of them. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his own threadbare jeans, and is fully aware of the well worn flannel shirt that engulfs his torso, unable to resist inwardly comparing it to the tailored, cleanly pressed button-down the other male wears and the italian leather encasing his feet.  

(He takes some unbridled glee in the fact that at least they will all be on somewhat the same level once they don their uniform but right now he can feel the stark difference and he doesn’t like it.)

As the hall grows bustling as more people pour into the auditorium, Seongwu’s attention gets diverted from the slender man to the other candidates who paint a contrasting picture, heaped with mortifying kisses and warm hugs from their families, the first prolonged time they will be spending away from them.

Seongwu allows himself to stare momentarily, longingly, at the clasped hands and the easily imparted comfort, before turning away almost bitterly. He attempts to divest himself of all emotions by training his eyes on the gigantic banner hanging in the front of the room.

It proclaims, ‘Welcome Class of 2017 to KNPU: Be Ambitious.’  

Despite the sense of pride it does somewhat trigger, it’s hard to shake off the flood of other feelings though.

After all these years, it still comes as a struggle for Seongwu especially when it comes to important events such as today, a day when anyone would want to celebrate and commemorate with the people they loved the most.

Seongwu can barely even remember his own mother who had passed on early, years ago and was only familiar with the occasional absent-minded pets from his grandmother growing up. But even at that, they were all too busy with the struggles of life to warrant much affection, in and out of the house due to the never-ending stream of part time jobs, trying to earn enough to survive. His dad was what you’d classify as almost worse than deadbeat, the kind that was (well, still is) continuously unable to get himself out of debt, and Seongwu has long given up on any support from him.

Today and always, he only has himself.

His eyes return to search out the remaining crowd of people, a habitual action that has been formed from years past, even though he knows it is futile, since the only remaining picture he has seared firmly on his mind is that of a young child.

And an overwhelming stench of guilt that he can never forget.   

The group of prospective candidates get herded into another smaller room once the fanfare is over and the families have left. The first thing on the agenda is cutting their hair— not quite military bald, but almost there. There is a lot of protests from the group but the instructor calmly tells them that after these two weeks, they can grow it back out again (well, relatively). Orientation is going to be a hellish time and she says, they’ll be thankful they’ll at least have one less thing to think about.

Seongwu doesn’t care either way, it’s not like he’s had much to do with styling himself before, and allows the hairdresser (though he uses that term loosely, since really, it’s just another older student holding up an ancient set of clippers) do his job. The trainee next to him lets out a spiel of imaginative swear words as his own barber cuts his a little bit too short.

Later that day, after they have sat through numerous introductory lectures, Seongwu runs his hand through his newly shorn hair, it’s not that short, he still has hair at least as he surveys the room that has been designated as his for the following four years. It’s unfortunate that there are three other people sharing with him, but again it’s not like cramped, cooped up spaces are unfamiliar to him.

He dumps his bags on the ground and flops onto the bed, grateful for being able to take the next step forward.

The first night is unmemorable, except for the whispered complaints from the others, about the loud snoring that comes from one of the burlier guys, and the general rustling of sheets. Seongwu being used to sharing a room for as long as he can remember, just rolls over and shuts his own mind off.  

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

The two week orientation goes by quickly, as is the case when every hour of the day is almost taken up by something new.

It’s intense, the way they heap as much information as they can about what the candidates should expect once they officially enroll at the end of the short period. The last week isn’t quite over yet and there’s already been four dropouts, leaving ninety six students left behind to be accepted into the four year major.  

Surprisingly, Seongwu doesn’t do as horribly as he thought he would have on some of the more physical activities. He’s never had the best stamina, always falling sick every winter, but it seems the manual labor job at the construction site he picked up last year has helped to train his muscles to become stronger.  

Today, he manages to get through their latest testing without too much effort and finds himself smiling inwardly at the applause the class gives him when their instructor tells him he’s currently holding the fastest time for the rope climb.  

Seongwu moves to sit down on the gym mats where the rest of the recruits are gathered and he watches the others get called up to do their climb. He looks down at the plain black watch he owns, and makes a note that he only has an hour before he needs to leave.

He looks back up just in time to see the same male he saw at the entrance ceremony executing the perfect rope climb, nimbly jumping to grab onto the swinging rope and effectively uses both the muscles in his arms and legs to haul himself up the length. He reaches the top, tapping it once and drops back down fast onto the mat in record time. That’s Seongwu’s record he’s just smashed.

Dongho, one of his dorm mates (that burly one) nudges him with his elbow, hissing, “That was Hwang Minhyun. He’s the top ranking applicant of our batch intake.” Seongwu gives him a look out of the corner of his eyes as he rubs his ribs when the bony end had dug in. Does he care? No, not really (but his mind so helpfully supplies him some of the useless factoids he must have taken in when he working at the IT center several months ago: Hwang Minhyun; youngest son of a very wealthy family; grandfather the founder of Hwang Technologies).

He asks if it’s true. Dongho confirms.

Seongwu derisively wonders what someone like him is doing here.

Before he can ponder further on the subject, Dongho continues on, “He reportedly got the best cumulative score across those tests we did, you know the SAT and written ones to get accepted. I can’t believe he did well at the physical test too.” Dongho scratches at the stubble dotting his chin (Seongwu thinks, he’s going to get pinged for that), “But judging from that climb, he obviously has some decent muscle under that jacket.”

Seongwu replies dryly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you still have him beat in that area.” He doesn’t have to look over to sense that Dongho is preening a little, enjoying the fact that his larger, more muscular build is an added advantage in a career path like this. Seongwu himself knows he didn’t do too badly on the tests after having looked at his grading scores once and never again (well he made the sixty to one threshold the university had set at least), but he knows he probably could have pulled up his scores even more if he just had the time.

If only.

Seongwu’s tone is slightly sharp when he mutters back under his breath, “Probably had enough money to buy himself into the course.”

There is a short pause before Dongho replies with a quiet chuckle, “Damn dude, that’s a nice sized chip on your shoulders.” Seongwu shrugs, and just watches the way one of the other trainees almost fall to his death as his grip slips off the coarse rope. He winces.

“Well, I’m sure granddad was able to get him the best tutors anyway,” Seongwu says as he keeps his gaze firmly on the man in question who has moved to take a long swig at his water bottle. Despite the quenching of thirst, he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat. Damnit.

“Whatever works though right?” Dongho says cheerfully as he slaps a large palm against Seongwu’s back. Seongwu winces again. “Let’s not drag each other down. We’re all in this together.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Their fitness session ends at seventeen hundred hours and Seongwu has just enough time to duck in for a fast shower before he needs to be on the scheduled bus leaving campus for the city. He has already filed in his leave request form to cover his absence and they don’t have anything except a short tutorial after dinner. He figures he’ll be able to catch up if he just sleeps a little less tonight. Seongwu thinks back to the conversation he had with one of the senior professors and the promise he made to him, and to himself.

(“As long as you’re sure this won’t impact on your grades.” “I promise, sir.” “Okay recruit, you’re dismissed.”)

Seongwu is just about to leave the communal bathroom, towel slung around his shoulders when he walks into Minhyun who has obviously decided to come for his own shower prior to dinner, unlike the rest of the hungry trainees. He knows Minhyun didn’t hear what he said before but there’s something about the way the other recruit looks at him in such a way that makes him feel completely transparent.

“Good job on the ropes,” Minhyun says unexpectedly as he hands Seongwu back his tracksuit jacket that had fallen down to the ground during the exchange.

Seongwu brusquely murmurs, “Thanks,” and offers no more.

Their eyes meet but Seongwu averts his own quickly, as though he could be burned from just standing too close and pushes past him.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Some time after the batch of candidates has been officially accepted as freshmen, Seongwu is already regretting his decision on judo as his preferred choice when the drill instructor had told them to pick a defensive maneuver to learn. Though he does figure, he probably would fair pretty similarly at any of the other forms of martial arts.  

It’s hard to keep up when half the recruits have had training for years whilst his teenage years was filled with cleaning the windows of the same gym instead.  

It’s late at night when he sneaks into the deserted gym. Theoretically they aren’t meant to be accessing the facilities after hours, but he comes to the risky conclusion that their drill instructors won’t fault him too much for being keen enough for more practice if he gets caught. Everyone else is spending their leisure time more wisely by relaxing in the common areas or in their own rooms.

He just got back from another one of his part time work shifts too, so he’s a little more sluggish than normal, feeling the fatigue deep within him. But he forces himself to push through the fog. 

Slowly, Seongwu runs through the different formations of movements that he thinks he’s memorised correctly but he can’t help the noise of frustration when he can’t seem to get one of the stances down properly. Seongwu wipes the sweat off his forehead, and just tries again and again.

It’s not for another fifteen minutes before he hears a clipped statement coming from behind him. “You should bend your knees more,” a voice breaking the silence and his concentration at the same time. “Widen your stance too and you’ll find that you will have a better base of support.”  

A myriad of emotions spin through Seongwu immediately; initial surprise from the interruption, irritation at being called out for poor form, and then finally a resigned acceptance for help when he swivels around quickly to see one of the other trainees leaning against the wall. The other male is cloaked in darkness which mostly masks his face but Seongwu can feel the analytical once over that he’s just been given.  

When the recruit steps closer to the mat, into the light, Seongwu realizes that it’s Minhyun who is the one that has been watching him.

That acceptance for help diminishes a little.

“What makes you think you’re good enough to give me pointers?” Seongwu can hear his own voice, it’s rough and somewhat harsh. He wants to say it’s because of the exertion he’s just put himself through with going through the fast motions, but it’s purely because he’s embarrassed. Minhyun just stands there staring calmly at him, and it makes Seongwu feel an even bigger twinge of distrust run through his blood.

Seongwu missed today’s supervised judo session with one of the instructors since it had been postponed from the afternoon and he already had his shift scheduled. He knows he’s behind, but he doesn’t need to be explicitly reminded.  

“Well, I’ve trained in judo for a few years now,” Minhyun says as he un-crosses his arms to allow them to hang by his side. “I think I’ve got the basics down at least.” A wry look forms despite the still cool demeanor at Seongwu’s prickly exterior.

When Seongwu doesn’t say anything, Minhyun sighs before he _smiles_. It looks genuine but Seongwu isn’t collecting. Minhyun says, unbothered by Seongwu’s non response, “Look I’m not going to bite. I mean I don’t know what your problem is— whether you think I’m intimidating or something, but I just want to help.”  

The words spark something defensive inside him, as he answers back dismissively, “Please, you’re the furthest thing from intimidating. Also, I’m not one of the other recruits you think will fall at your feet. I don’t need your help.”

The smile just grows even brighter.

Minhyun’s eyes crinkle into crescent shapes, as he, almost to himself, says, “I think I’m going to like your company.”

Seongwu isn’t sure why Minhyun is talking to him in the first place, let alone saying that. He turns away and tries to ignore Minhyun, clumsily attempting through the motions again. The gym is silent for another few minutes and Seongwu surreptitiously tries to spread his feet a little wider as per the tip from before.

Seongwu immediately doesn’t like the feeling that flows through him when he realizes the new position does make him feel more stable and balanced. The tension edging at his corners feel pronounced.

Minhyun softly begins to throw out short pieces of advice, becoming more confident with it when Seongwu doesn’t retaliate with one of his customary barbs, absorbing it instead.

“You know, you’re actually decent for a beginner especially since you seem to pick things up pretty fast.” That one sentence throws Seongwu and his leg jerks halfway through the circular swing that he was attempting, almost planting him on his bottom. The small compliment does feel somewhat like a peace offering though, and it surprisingly helps Seongwu to relax a little.

“Thanks, I guess.” Seongwu is still somewhat suspicious, eyes narrowing as he watches the other male decidedly walk onto the mat, right up in front of him. He notes that he’s in his training gear rather than the judo uniform, and the grey zip up is form fitting against Minhyun’s frame. How he manages to make all their shitty plain clothes look expensive, Seongwu doesn’t have a clue.

Must be an by-effect coming from money.

“Sorry, I probably should have introduced myself earlier.” Minhyun holds out his palm for a polite introductory shake. Seongwu acquiesces, though still with reluctance, grasping the other man’s finely boned hand firmly. There’s strength in it. “I’m Hwang Minhyun.”

“I know,” Seongwu’s mouth volunteers a tad too fast, and he sees the apples of Minhyun’s cheeks rise.

“You do, huh?” Minhyun answers back. “And you’re Ong Seongwu right?” Seongwu nods. “I didn’t see you during the last training session. If you’re willing, we can run through the partner work that you missed.”  

“I was off campus—,” Seongwu begins, feeling the surprise that cuts sharply through his stomach when he hears that Minhyun has noted his absence. “Busy.” He exhales heavily, not expanding on the explanation (he doesn’t need to explain himself) when Minhyun comes closer into his personal space.

Seongwu stiffens when he feels Minhyun’s hands press against his shoulders with light pressure, in an effort to straighten his back up.

“Relax.” It feels like a command for him to do so physically, and mentally.

(He doesn’t.)

Minhyun doesn’t prod for an elaboration to Seongwu’s excuse. He just uses his foot to nudge against his legs, an indication for him to step out, to open up his base. “So like I said before, if you have a lower crouching pose, you’ll find that it’ll firm up your center of gravity. Makes it harder for someone to throw you over if you have a better grip on the ground.”

Seongwu sees the other trainee’s expression turn approving when he begrudgingly does what he’s told.  

“We’ll start with something pretty easy.” Minhyun taps at his jacket, his chest and says, “Grab me in what you think would be the right positioning for a forward foot sweep.”

Seongwu eyes him. “I just met you today and you want me to put you on your ass?”

“You want me to put you on yours?” Minhyun questions back.

_Touché._ Seongwu immediately follows instructions and steps close to bunch the fabric under his hands, one on each of Minhyun’s arms.  

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” Minhyun breathes out, anticipating the fall.

Seongwu bites his lip in concentration as he moves to hook his left leg around Minhyun’s right ankle and in one smooth movement, sweeps him. The power of the position thrills him as Minhyun lands onto his back on the mat. “Too easy.”

“You won’t be saying that when your opponent actually fights back,” Minhyun replies sternly as he clambers up onto his feet to stand before him.  

Seongwu says in a miffed tone, “Just let me have this one.” Minhyun lets out a peal of laughter and a warmness shoots through him from the sound. Seongwu shakes his head, he’s too tired. But they spend the following half an hour running through several of the more easy movements until Minhyun is satisfied with his technique, praising him at the end. Seongwu colors slightly hearing the compliments that he’s not used to and just gruffly mutters something that vaguely sounds like a word of thanks to the other male.

They walk back to the dormitory side by side, cool breeze on their sweaty backs. When Minhyun asks, “Next Thursday, same time?” with an expectant look in his eyes, Seongwu finds himself somehow agreeing to the suggestion without any delay.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

They meet again on Thursday as decided.

Seongwu isn’t sure why Minhyun is taking the time out to help him one on one, but he doesn’t complain. He needs all the help he can get to catch up on the basics, and of course getting it from the one who is just perfect at everything, Seongwu figures he probably shouldn’t say no.  

They don’t really talk all that much, just the occasional sentence about the different hand holds and technical descriptors of the throws and Seongwu is completely fine by it. He’d prefer it in fact.

Today’s lesson is centered on something a little more advanced since Minhyun deemed that Seongwu has remembered enough from a week ago. They were shown how to do over the shoulder throws in class this morning, and Minhyun gestures for Seongwu to perform one on him.

They both have their official judo uniforms on, and Seongwu hesitatingly goes to grip his left fist against Minhyun’s bottom right sleeve, and his right hand on Minhyun’s left lapel. Minhyun nods encouragingly at him, murmuring that he’s got the hand hold right and to carry on. It’s an almost awkward position when he twists in place to turn facing away from Minhyun, allowing the other male’s weight brace against his back but he manages to complete the full motion.

Minhyun slams onto the raised mat, and Seongwu stumbles forward in momentum, losing his footing as he falls almost directly on top of Minhyun. It’s lucky his elbow braces his weight because their faces end up far too close for his comfort. Minhyun surprisingly giggles at their close proximity, not seemingly aware of the sudden tensing of Seongwu’s muscles.  

Adrenaline kicks through him as he jumps back up again.

On Minhyun’s command, they take turns to throw each other down, breathing quickly becoming more harried and loud. Minhyun laughs intermittently every time Seongwu accidentally comes too close; he laughs easily, as though it’s not a big deal to him.

Seongwu on the other hand doesn’t know how to feel.  

As they continue the session, Seongwu slowly deflates, his previously affirmed lack of stamina finally coming back to bite him in the ass, as he feels himself beginning to drop back onto the lower end of his energy scale. Minhyun is agreeable in the ending of their sparring, feeling the exhaustion himself as they both fall back on the mat, staring up at the ceiling.

After several moments of catching their breath, Seongwu allows his face to turn to the left, looking sideways which causes his vision to be filled by an angular jaw, a sharp protrusion of an adam’s apple and the sweeping of a hand to gently wipe the dampness off a pale column of neck.

Minhyun isn’t looking at him, his eyes are closed but there is a glow to his face and his lips part in a smile.

Seongwu almost allows himself to be riveted by the amount of easy happiness on Minhyun’s face but he forces himself to pull away to the shower rooms.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

It isn’t immediate, the whole friendship thing after the last training session.

In fact, they barely even orbit around each other during the day in the following week, except to brush shoulders as they walk past in the narrow hallways, or race past each other on the mid-morning runs around the mountainous track of Mt Buphwa.  

Minhyun does try to interact with him, to his credit, but Seongwu is very stubborn. He is stubborn in his resistance to get through the four years of university and come out with a badge in hand, not _friends_. He feels slightly bad that he hasn’t particularly tried with his dorm mates either. Seongwu wouldn’t say he is unfriendly— really he’s civil, but he doesn’t go out of his way to make chatty conversation. He’s just too busy and too tired whenever he comes back from his evening part time job, still needing to study into the night so that he is prepared for class the next day.

What he didn’t particularly count on though, was the fact that Hwang Minhyun is probably an even more stubborn creature than himself.

Seongwu walks into his room at ten o’clock at night on a Friday to find a small usb laying on his personal table. He stares at it with mild confusion. He doesn’t remember leaving one there, let alone owning the flashdrive in the first place.

There’s no note with it.

Seongwu, turning the sleek metal over in his fingers, looks over at Youngmin (roommate number two) to query about the ownership. Youngmin pulls his face away from his laptop and says, “Oh, Minhyun dropped that off earlier. He mentioned something about it being his favorite tutorial videos on judo and he thought you might like to watch it.”  

He thanks Youngmin, but the other student has already gone back to his movie, earphones back in place before his sentence finishes. Guess he can’t fault the guy for being abrupt and delivering him a taste of his own medicine when he too has been like that for the past few months.

Seongwu stares again at the usb, now sitting in the palm of his hand— almost like holding a ticking time bomb. He shakes off the strange feeling, he’s being stupid.

It’s just simple tutorial videos.

But the back of his mind, a nagging little voice tells him, this small item of technology isn’t actually so simple at all. What it does is represent so many things— represents so many feelings that Seongwu doesn’t want to have to deal with. Stroking the side of it with the tip of his thumb, Seongwu realizes that this usb is the ultimate representation of the reason why Minhyun is so well liked amongst their peers. It represents the fact that even though he is one of the top ranking recruits, he inspires respect and a liking rather than conflict and dissension.

However he is not them, and they are not him.

Seongwu shrugs off the prickling feeling of thinking about the possibility of someone actually caring enough to warrant looking out for him like this without asking for anything back. He doesn’t need it. He doesn’t want it. He opens his drawer and tosses the usb inside without a further glance and goes to shower off the dirt from the hours he had just spent at his construction job.   

 

 

 

Three nights later, in the early hours of the morning, Seongwu rolls over in bed unable to get any sleep despite the heaviness he feels on his eyelids. They have an early morning presentation and he should be getting all the rest he can if he doesn’t want to look like he doesn’t deserve to be here in front of the class.  

The others are sleeping soundly, as evidenced by Dongho’s loud snuffles, Youngmin’s mumblings and the silence from Sanggyun. He throws the light blanket off his body and makes the firm decision to pull his laptop out to brace on to his knees and digs in the dark for the offending usb again. He is careful to make sure his headphones are plugged into the audio jack when he clicks play on the first listed video.

Seongwu can’t help the way something unfamiliar blooms in his chest when he rolls through the folder to watch every single one.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

It’s the week before mid semester break when Seongwu finds himself sitting in a lecture theatre for his Criminal Investigation paper. He is almost half asleep, currently waiting for the professor to walk in.

As if on cue, a small paper cup of coffee appears in front of him silently, and Seongwu turns to see Minhyun slipping into the seat beside him. Seongwu wonders what his game is but does accept it, taking a reverent sip of the hot beverage. Well, it’s not like he can stand up now and move somewhere else so he might as well enjoy it without thinking too much about what it represents. He hasn’t spoken to him since the usb gifting, except to return it to him with another muted nod of thanks.

The professor walks in causing everyone to quieten down. His eyes start to droop again as the lights dim since the coffee hasn’t kicked in, but when the powerpoint fires up and he sees what the today’s subject is, Seongwu has never felt more focused in his life. He jerks up sharply in his chair and doesn’t budge his gaze from the slide projected onto the screen.

Minhyun looks curiously at him, but Seongwu stares straight ahead, ignoring him.

Seongwu has already read up on every single thing he can find on the internet, poured through all the books; fictional and nonfictional, at the library, at every store, so this topic shouldn’t be new to him. He can’t help the stirrings of unease settle into limbs like a restless ache though when the professor begins introducing their latest segment: missing children and the possibilities of abduction.

The black text and clear graphs are harsh against the crisp white background as Seongwu allows the numbers to permeate into his brain. The professor goes on to explain that the police normally manages to gain information to begin the process of searching for missing children by initially using the Ministry of Education’s reported statistics of non-enrollment. Using that list, they are then able to subsequently track down most of the children. However, this year there are still twenty four children that haven’t been found.

Let alone, the numbers adding up from the previous decades.

“The first two days are especially critical,” Professor Yang reads out as his pointer underline the words on the board. “Usually this is the time where witness statements, or surrounding evidence is fresh, and so the fast launching of investigations remains imperative.”

Seongwu’s mouth taste acidic. The police had not begun their own search for at least three days, citing the lack of manpower due to the coinciding start of the lunar new year holidays. He’d spent those few days hiding under his blanket, refusing to eat anything, refusing to do anything.

“After that first forty-eight hours, the chance of finding a child continues to plummet. The reason being that the missing children are then more susceptible to assault or human trafficking.” Seongwu’s vision blurs even though he already knows these facts inside out. But hearing them being stated out loud just drives home the potential possibilities. “It is thankful that with the new governmental laws implemented in 2005, most children are usually found within those crucial hours. Most of the time it’s just purely a data error, for example, parents enrolling them in schools without letting the previous ones know. Other times, it’s more sinister.”

The professor paces up and down the front of the room as he continues his spiel. “Sometimes with the knowledge of resulting death, though sad, there is at least closure. However, some families may go on to suffer for as long as the child remains missing.”

Seongwu doesn’t blink but a spike of pain stab the left side of his chest. He tries to ignore it but fails miserably.

The painful memories begin to bowl through him as Seongwu struggles to remain calm in the middle of the professor’s droning words. The other students sit there unaware of the turmoil inside of him, taking it as just another every day lecture.

Seongwu remembers the frantic haste in which his dad had returned home that one year in November, bursting in through their front door to yell at them to pack everything up. They were moving to another part of the city. His grandmother had been unsurprised, just softly telling him and his younger brother to pack up all their possessions and clothes. It’s not like they had that much anyway, most of their furniture and personal items fitting on the back of a small truck. The rest, had come with the apartment.

Seongwu’s fist opens and closes tightly on the desk.

_Daniel._

It had been a cooler autumn night more than ten years ago and he remembers helping his brother put on a thicker jacket, telling him to keep it zipped up. Of course, Daniel being Daniel had complained about being too hot and stuffy and had just danced away from him before Seongwu could get the clasp to fit together. Following that, he had berated his brother, saying that he was going to catch a cold, and Daniel had exclaimed back to him playfully, _the cold has to catch me first._  He had stuck out his tongue and grabbed his favorite football to hug before running out of the apartment to clamber onto the back of the waiting truck.

His hand shakes, the professor’s voice now a hollow sound as he focuses on the singular memory that he will never forget for as long as he lives.

Seongwu will never forget the exact moment when he had tried to catch the ball that Daniel had tossed to him whilst they were both sitting there waiting for the vehicle to move. He will never forget the way his fingers had slipped, pushing the trajectory of the ball out of the truck, causing it to roll aimlessly onto the asphalt, away from them. He didn’t think much of it then, just allowing his younger brother to hop off to go retrieve it, unabashedly thinking it was nice to have someone younger to do all the dirty work.  

The thought had however turned into fast apprehension, when the one of the workers had come around to shut the back lip of the trailer. He hadn’t known what to do in his shock, when the man disappeared in the blink of an eye before he could say anything; didn’t know what to do when he felt the engine ignition turn on, the vibrations sending fearful waves along his bottom. Seongwu had managed to unstick his tongue, to shout, _Come back! Hurry!_ into the night, but Daniel had gone further than he had expected, merrily chasing after a runaway ball.

He remembers yelling at their dad who was situated in the front cab, over and over again, frantic to stop the truck so they could get Daniel. His voice had started to grow hoarse from the repeated shouting, _Dad, Daniel;_ the only words on his lips at the time as the surroundings flew past as the truck continued unaware on its path. Seongwu remembers the abject terror at the idea of being separated from his brother, the closest person he had to him and had been semi-placated when his dad had finally noticed his waving through the side mirror.

That feeling had remained completely short lived though, when his dad had returned empty handed after half an hour of searching, shaking his head. _Go back! Find him!_ Seongwu had weeped chokingly, unable to comprehend what had just happened, beating his small fists on his grandmother’s back who had gathered him up in a long hug.

The painful memory stops short when a warm hand closes around Seongwu’s forearm grounding him back to reality, to present day. “Are you alright?” He hears Minhyun whisper into his ear, but the words lodge deep. He can feel the small tear leak from the corner of his eye (luckily the side away from Minhyun), and his fist tightens even further, nails biting deeply into the palm of his hand. He uses his left hand to quickly wipe away any traces of his internal struggle and coughs to clear the lump that is stuck in his throat. He hasn’t reacted like this in years.

“Ye—yeah, I’m fine,” Seongwu stutters, but it’s a blatant lie. “Just a sad thought, you know, the missing kids that are never found,” the rest of his words stumble out in his attempt to keep his tone light, hoping Minhyun won’t catch the quiver he can so clearly hear in his tone. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m not usually this sentimental. Too little sleep, I guess.”

It’s alarming— the way that Minhyun looks at him knowingly, like he can see right through him again, but he doesn’t press the situation and turns around to face the front of the room again when the professor starts throwing questions into the crowd. The only leftover indicator of his concern, the lingering squeeze from where his hand still lies over his forearm. Seongwu immediately shakes it off. 

Seongwu spends the rest of the lecture trying to get a hold of himself. When the lights turn back on, and all the other students begin to pack up, he hastily shoves his own textbook back into his messenger bag and mutters to Minhyun a fast, “Don’t tell anyone what happened.” Minhyun tries to say something to him but Seongwu leaps down the stairs in his attempt to catch the professor before he walks out of the lecture room.

“Professor Yang! Can I please have several minutes of your time?” Seongwu asks politely.

The professor turns around, briefcase still in hand. “Of course—” he looks down at Seongwu’s name badge and recognition dawns, “Seongwu-sshi. What can I do for you?”

Seongwu bounces from one foot to the other, contemplating how he should phrase his words.

When he begins, his voice is quiet, not wanting some of the nearby remaining students to overhear the conversation, “You mentioned earlier that sixty five percent of long term missing children were found dead and I was just wondering for the other unsolved cases, how often would the police be to willingly reopen them if they hadn’t found a missing child from years ago?”  

Professor Yang blinks rapidly at him, contemplating Seongwu’s words.

“You know someone just asked me a similar question before class. It’s good you’re all so interested,” He answers before continuing, “Well, theoretically the statute of limitations on a missing person’s case is around fifteen years, so if it’s still within that range, you could file a motion.”

He stops to think again.

“However, depending on the situation, it’s very hard to track down a missing child if we’re talking more than ten years, for example especially if there weren’t any CCTV footage that the police could pick up at the time, or any recorded DNA evidence.” He rubs his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Nowadays, the government has implemented new laws, like I spoke before earlier, which includes the pre-registration of fingerprints but of course if the child has been missing from prior to that, I would have to say it might be a very tough time, I’m afraid.”

Seongwu has already come to the same conclusion, but he obviously had a masochistic need to to hear it directly from his professor’s mouth. It definitely hurts just as much as he thought it would.

“What prompted your interest in the subject? Are you interested in joining the special investigations team once you graduate?”   

“Something like that, sir,” Seongwu hesitates, before resolutely continuing on, “My younger brother is what you would consider a long term missing person. He was separated from our family when we were younger. There has been no leads since then.”

The immediate amount of pity that forms in Professor Yang’s eyes is the number one reason Seongwu doesn’t like to tell the people around him, even though he knows, logically, the more people that know about it, the wider reach there might be to finding him again.

“My apologies, Seongwu-sshi. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Ah, I presume you’ve looked into reaching out to the Association of Missing Children?”

Seongwu nods, he goes there to meet with several other families every few months when he has the time. “I go there occasionally to hang up new flyers but they never have any news for me.”

Professor Yang’s hand moves to dig into the front pocket of his briefcase, pulling out a name card.

“My email is on the front. How about you give me a message when you can with any details you can remember, and I will see if any of my contacts can help dig up anything.”  Professor Yang’s eyes peers at him over the top of his wire-rim glasses. The pity is still there. “Of course, I can’t promise anything.”

A small glimmer begins to spark again, an un-relentless hope that has never left him, but Seongwu grimly forces it back into the recesses of his heart because he has been burned too many times and just says, “Anything would be great. Thank you for your time, Professor.”

The older man takes his leave, bidding him goodbye and Seongwu stands there for a couple of moments in order to re-gather his thoughts. He leaves through the nearby side door only to stop short in his tracks when he sees Minhyun resting against the wall, eyes closed, and both arms and ankles crossed. He must have waited behind for him.

Without saying a word to alert the other male, Seongwu immediately turns to the left, with the intent of walking the opposite direction as fast as he can when he feels fingers curl around his upper arm.  

“Hey.”

Seongwu’s palms are itchy with mild dread. Had Minhyun possibly overheard the conversation that he had with the professor? He turns around to face him. “What is it?” _Please don’t bring it up even if he did_ , Seongwu prays in his mind. The waterworks are still probably just a small twist away.

He’s surprised when Minhyun doesn’t say anything about his over-reaction from before. Or give any indication he overheard the private talk if he did. Minhyun just says, “You ran off too quickly before. Come on, I want to give you something.” Minhyun grabs his shoulder and steers him back down the hallway, towards the dorm rooms. The grip is gentle but firm to lead him through the numerous students dotting the common areas.

There’s a couple of odd glances, Seongwu knowing that it’s because they’re standing far too close to each other for a pair of acquaintances.

“What are you doing? I have to go find something to eat before our next lecture,” Seongwu is still tense when he complains, even though for some obscure reason he allows himself to be guided to the unknown. “We’re not going to spar, are we? I can’t be sore tonight. I have work.”

“We’re not going to the gym, I promise.” Minhyun laughs, that same warm sound, taking his hands off Seongwu’s shoulders as he fumbles in his pocket for a key. “Don’t worry, I have a seventh sense that it’ll be a surprise that you’ll enjoy.”

Seongwu flatly says, “It’s called a sixth sense.” Minhyun’s bright expression gives way to a glaring look. It strangely makes Seongwu want to smile.

The door pops open with a click and Seongwu is almost dragged into the room. It’s immediate, the way he knows the one section of the room, minimalistic and overly clean, is Minhyun’s. It’s a big contrast to the strewn training gear and stacks of books on the other trainees’ beds.

“My roommates are out on their scheduled taser training so we won’t be interrupted.”

Seongwu squints, pupils probably flickering wildly. The other man pulls off the sweater he has over his uniform shirt in front of him.

“Won’t be interrupted—Uh, doing what exactly?” Seongwu croaks out slowly.

Is this some sort of delayed police cadet hazing that he missed?

The grin widens on Minhyun’s face as he moves to unbutton the upper two. Seongwu sweats a little.

“Well, since you asked so nicely—” Minhyun bends down to pull out a black contraption from under his bed, “Ta-da!” He brandishes a small, portable BBQ grill plate and then goes to grab a pack of meat from the mini fridge he has in the corner of his room, waving it at Seongwu. “I saw that you’ve been missing a few meals lately. So, this,” he waves the meat in the air again, “is for you.”

Seongwu stays frozen on the spot, not entirely sure how to react to the sight before him.

He’s never had anyone surprise him like this before, let alone buy him food. Sure, he hasn’t made it to the cafeteria on occasion recently due to his changing work schedule, but it’s not like he’s been starving (especially not since attending the police university anyway since food is provided for free) as he can still spare a few coins to buy instant ramen.

The expensive korean beef that he sees sitting in Minhyun’s hand however, makes him salivate. He’s never had any before.

Seongwu doesn’t say anything though, and the smile on Minhyun’s face falters. “You don’t eat beef?” There is a tinge of worry in Minhyun’s voice.

“No, I eat anything. I’m just— confused,” Seongwu replies shortly. “I don’t understand. The sparring sessions, the usb, the coffee from before, I could go on. Now this. Why are you being nice to me?”

Minhyun’s eyes almost glow as he stands in the line of the sun’s rays streaming in. “Do I need to have a reason to be nice to you?” Minhyun asks before he turns away from Seongwu to place the beef down on a short stool. He then moves to lay newspaper out on the ground under the assumption that Seongwu will join him in this illicit activity.

There is a short pause with only the sound of the wind blowing into the room, and the rustling from the setting up where Minhyun tinkers around.

“I don’t know, you tell me. Am I like a charity project or something to you? Something that you rich kids get your kicks out of?” Seongwu can’t help but ask, a lashing out that he knows isn’t warranted despite what he thinks but it pours out anyway.

Minhyun’s voice is soft but there is a layer of steel behind it when he finally deigns to answer, “You don’t know anything about me.” Despite the forced statement, he does look somewhat smaller than normal, and it makes Seongwu immediately feel like absolute shit. Minhyun continues, cutting through the thick cloud of tension in the room, “And I obviously don’t know anything about you, but is it so wrong that I want that to change?”

The guilt rises like a mountain, just another peak in the entire range that already sits inside him. Someone hands him a gift horse and he’s just throwing insults back into their face.

Seongwu scrubs his eyes and sighs.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have even thought that. I’m sorry,” Seongwu apologizes hurriedly with regret now, a twisting in his stomach. It’s been a long morning of pushing him to his limits, not that it should be an excuse. “I’m just not used to it. There’s always a catch.”

He’s never had time to make friends, all of his free time taken up by his insistent search for Daniel. Even more than that, he’s never given anyone the opportunity to get close because of the potential consequences.

Minhyun’s eyes watch him like a hawk and Seongwu’s stomach twists again. “Do you want me to leave?”

The look of hurt melts off Minhyun’s face easily and it’s replaced with relaxed comfort again. “No, it’s fine.” He sits down on the ground and beckons to him. “Ong Seongwu, trust me when I say you’re not an asshole so don’t act like one. Otherwise you’ll scare away any potential friends.”

“I don’t need any friends.” Seongwu says resolutely as though trying to convince Minhyun, but really, he is just trying to convince himself.

Minhyun shoots him a pointed glare and says, “You may not need any friends, but you deserve them. So be quiet and come here and sit down.”

Seongwu takes a long minute to deliberate his next move, but he does silently walk to sit in front of the makeshift table as Minhyun lay out chopsticks and a spoon that had magically appeared out of nowhere. He watches the way the man neatly lays the strips of the meat on to the grill, a stone still sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach.

“Thanks for this I guess,” Seongwu mumbles, staring only at the now sizzling meat, unable to look up. “I just— Thanks.”

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

The next time they meet, is on the first Saturday night back after break when they find they’ve both the only ones left after having missed the last bus back to campus. Seongwu has just finished his part time job having run to the bus stop just before the rain had started.

The rest of the previous lunch session had gone relatively well, as well as can be for two people who didn’t know a thing about each other, to start to close the space with the normal superficial questions.

In the week before they split for break, there was a tentative outreach and acceptance.

Tonight it seems fate has thrown them back together again as they stand there side by side at the bus stop in silence, contemplating the downpour of rain that thuds rhythmically against the shelter cover. It's an hour and a half walk _up_ the hill if they go by foot.

“Ah, shit.”

Seongwu can’t help the small laugh that releases from him at the uncharacteristic way that Minhyun swears at the situation. Minhyun smiles back before opening his mouth to say something else, but a crack of lightning and thunder interrupt him. The rain pours down even harder.

They spend the next twenty minutes attempting to flag a taxi down from where they are standing but all of them seem occupied, or unwilling to take a pair of males at this late hour of the night.

“You think if we go up to the nearest station, and tell them we’re police students at the nearby university, they’ll give us a ride in the cruiser?”

“Unlikely.”

And so, they find themselves in a small but busy, mom and pop run shop with low lying tables that are just off the floor instead. Seongwu takes off his wet shoes, tucking them into the shelves that are provided for that purpose, and Minhyun follows suit. The shop aunt waves them over to the left corner where she is clearing one table, freeing it from the multiple bottles of alcohol the previous customer left behind.

They wind their way around the numerous groups, taking care not to get in their way of the drinking games and copious alcoholic consumption. Seongwu squeezes past an especially rowdy table, to fit into the corner that is slightly a little more secluded at the back of the restaurant. They kneel to sit on the wooden floor and Seongwu attempts to stretch his legs out under the table but when it touches against Minhyun’s denim clad one, he quickly retracts it to sit cross legged instead.

Minhyun shakes the damp fringe out of his eyes.

“One bottle of soju?” The shop owner inquires in a harried fashion though she smiles pleasantly down at them.

“Let’s make that two, and one order of half and half please,” Seongwu politely corrects the order, and the woman moves quickly to one of the fridges nearby to pull out the bottles and grabs two shot glasses as well.

A small sound of hesitation escapes from Minhyun as he looks sheepishly at the green bottles that she places in front of them, before admitting, “I can barely drink. I don’t know how I’m going to finish that.” He gestures freely in front of him with a wave of his hand.

Seongwu stares at Minhyun (why is he not surprised at that revelation) and finally smiles again, a quick flash. “Who says it’s for you?” Minhyun purses his lips, raising a brow and Seongwu thinks he’s about to get a lecture regarding the terrors of binge drinking, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, Minhyun jumps straight to the jugular.  

“So, tell me something about yourself.” 

“What do you want to know?” Seongwu warily pours himself another drink.

“Why did you want to become a policeman?” Minhyun’s question is unflinchingly straightforward, and though it shouldn’t feel like an arrow piercing through him, it does. To any other recruit, it may be a simple reason of wanting to protect the general public, and sure yes, that is one of his reasons too but there is a much deeper current (Daniel; his mind very nicely blares in flashing words) that stems Seongwu’s drive in career.

“Free tuition,” Seongwu answers coolly, not yet deciding how much he wants to tell Minhyun. He doesn’t take his eyes off the other male though, staring straight at him when he gulps down a shot. The alcohol burns a path down to his stomach. Seongwu coughs, not having had any soju in a while, since the last time he did, it didn’t go down very prettily. But it seems that this conversation may need a little more liquid courage on his part if they were going to get any further.

Minhyun chews on the answer for a total of thirty seconds before he throws out a blunt, “You were poor growing up?” It seems like he wants to say something else but he doesn’t.

Seongwu replies slowly, unsure why he’s allowing the following words to tumble out, “I guess you could say that— can still say that. My dad bounces from business to business, thinking the next one will always be his big break. But—“ Seongwu laughs scornfully, “it never happens and the debt piles higher.”

“Is that why you’re always off campus all the time? You’re working part-time jobs?”

Seongwu nods a yes.

The glass bottle moves surprisingly as Minhyun pours them both shots in his response.

“I thought you don’t drink,” Seongwu questions wonderingly, looking at the way that the clear liquid hits the brim.

“I said I’m not great at drinking, but I never said I don’t,” Minhyun says simply, as he pushes the cupful of liquor towards him. “Anyway, I think we’re both going to need more if this is the way tonight has started out already.” They clink glasses in an action of cheers, despite the despondent topic and down the spirit in one fast motion.

Minhyun places the glass back down neatly next to the bottles on the table and looks at him.

Seongwu feels the hit of irritation rush through him at what he interprets as an unneeded expression on Minhyun’s face. “Don’t pity me. I can see it in your face.”

“It’s not pity,” Minhyun’s voice is muted. “It’s empathy.”

Seongwu reacts fast, he can’t help the scoff that leaves his lips, and the way the following words spits out bitingly, “A rich kid like yourself know about having to skimp and save every cent?” Seongwu looks directly at the thin, silver watch encircling Minhyun’s wrist. He nods at it. “That probably costs more than everything we had in our house growing up.”

Minhyun grimaces in the slightest of ways, a very quick flash of dialed up distaste that would have been missed if Seongwu hadn’t had his eyes trained on the contours of Minhyun’s face but the other man doesn’t say anything else allowing him to barrel on.

“We may wear the same uniform, follow the same commands, and are on the same level when we’re on campus, but out here? Out here in the real world, you are I are completely different,” Seongwu fires mullishly at Minhyun, a growing strand of frustration beginning to form at the idea that someone like Minhyun could possibly understand him.

He had begun to allow himself, allow his walls to slowly become pliant to someone like Minhyun. Perhaps he thought wrong.

There is a long pause in which Seongwu is unsure what is supposed to happen next.

Scanning Minhyun’s face, tight and impassive, he almost gets the feeling that Minhyun is struggling, struggling in a way of decision whether to open up, whether to say anything back in response to Seongwu’s jibes.

But he does and everything changes.

Minhyun calmly says, “Honestly, you’re right. Everything you said is true. I am privileged to come from a wealthy family, but—” he pauses, “God, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. But if you must know, I wasn’t always a Hwang.” He continues to add, as if to explain everything, “I grew up in an orphanage.”

Seongwu doesn’t let himself betray any outward expression, but he does note the immediate zipping of surprise that shoots through his system, and the following hit of guilt (again) listening to Minhyun’s revelation.

“Not many people know that I was adopted by my parents when I was younger. There was an accident— Their own child died and they couldn’t have any more. They wanted to keep it under wraps of course, that they adopted me to essentially replace their child,” Minhyun says as he scratches the underside of his jaw, hand slightly jerky, the only cue that may imply any lack of comfort in his part of this conversation. “I go back to the orphanage a lot to help and visit, and— and so I don’t take any of this for granted okay?”

Seongwu cocks his head sideways, and hands stilling over the napkin that he had been mechanically shredding into tiny pieces, because it’s confusing and intriguing at the same time. Who knew, golden boy had his own dark secrets after all. But it seems all stories had their own happy endings, right?

“Sorry,” Seongwu offers, though he figures Minhyun probably has it pretty good now.

Minhyun says, “Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” He moves to take a small sip of his soju. “It doesn’t matter who I am in the grand scheme of things. Plus seems like it worked out well for me doesn’t it?” There is a light flush on his cheeks, and Seongwu doesn’t know if it’s just because the other man is a lightweight. But more importantly, Seongwu also doesn’t miss the way there is a bitterness to the flippant question. He files it away.  

“So,” Seongwu begins, deciding to go down a track that is hopefully less vulnerable, “You could have followed the family trade, had an easy way through the rigours of life.” He abandons the shredded napkin to place his chin against the flat surface of his clasped hands, elbows resting on the table, “What made you decide on the police force then?”

The shop aunt finally returns to place the plateful of half fried chicken, half seasoned chicken that Seongwu had ordered from before, apologizing for the wait, but it doesn’t matter because they don’t pay it the attention it should require; too focused on the conversation at hand.

“Didn’t want to live off the family name,” Minhyun’s eyes are now shining slightly when he answers back, nonchalantly volleying the same answer that Seongwu gave him before, “So you know, free tuition.”

A small snort slips out as Seongwu feels the emerging mirth that has been pulled forth from him. There is a short moment when all they can do is smile back at each other.

He now feels more relaxed, perhaps too much so. It’s a strange feeling to be sitting here with someone that he didn’t think he would have anything in common with but somehow there is the tiniest connecting fiber, a gossamer that has started to weave its way around them.

There already had been a strong inkling in the back of his mind that he didn’t want to acknowledge, that Minhyun wasn’t particularly the kind of guy that he thought he was in the first place. It had just been easy to file him in a certain box.

Seongwu’s brow begins to furrow though, confused by the wave of confusion cresting in the back of his throat as he tries to bring himself back to the overarching situation at hand.

Free tuition is obviously just a code word for the both of them but since Seongwu doesn’t want to talk about his own reasons, he can’t expect Minhyun to give him different treatment. And as much as he is semi-interested, learning more about the other man is just a slippery slope he doesn’t particularly wish to embark on, today (or if ever) so he just questions plainly, allowing the smile to slip off his own face, “Why are we even talking about this?”

Minhyun blinks a few times, slowly becoming amused at Seongwu’s obvious reluctance at his frankness. The smile is slight on his lips when he says, “It’s called conversation and getting to know each other? You know, what a friendship entails?” Seongwu’s mouth opens to answer back, but he knows it probably would come off callous and curt, so he just closes it again with an audible shutting of lips as he deliberates his next reply.

He lands on something that’s probably not much better. “I’m not sure I would call this,” Seongwu gestures between the both of them, this thing between them, whatever it is they have, “as friends.”

“Well, like I said before, I want us to be,” Minhyun counters easily, casually as he places the provided gloves on in order not to stain his fingers as he proceeds to handle the sticky glazed chicken. Seongwu’s eyes follow the movement, a small tick firing away at his clenched jaw.

He hates this feeling, the feeling of being wanted but not knowing when it’s going to end. So he usually never begins.

He pours himself another shot of soju and downs it in an attempt to drown what he’s feeling. The empty glass stays frozen, squeezed tightly in his fingers as his forearm comes back to rest on the table. The cacophony of noise in the restaurant buzzing behind them sounds almost distant now as his focus narrows in only on the singular person sitting in front of him.

Minhyun however, thankfully doesn’t push it, doesn’t push the reason for Seongwu’s reluctance and just reacts in the strangest of ways to someone who keeps overturning an extended arm of friendship. He just good-naturedly says, “Eat your chicken before it gets cold. I’ll pay today, and you can pay for me next time.”  

When they lie side by side, backs facing each other at the nearby jimjilbang, their home for the night, Seongwu wonders what it is that Minhyun sees in him because he doesn’t see it himself.

 

(Seongwu wakes up with a splitting headache the next day.) 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

There is a calculable change in the airwaves that lie between them after that.

Seongwu doesn’t allow every single wall of his to drop, not even close, and he doesn’t let Minhyun who is like a bulldozer flatten him completely. But he is much less outwardly reluctant in accepting the other male’s continued need for friendship.

It steadily becomes a regular thing, the weekly sparring sessions, and the occasional BBQ afternoons (Seongwu returns the favor to buy meat on the rare days when Minhyun doesn’t outright reject him). However the dorm room meals end up being put to a stop following an incident in which they had accidentally set the fire alarm off when they had forgotten to open the windows and one of the napkins caught on fire. They were given twenty hours of detention for their insubordination, ordered to rake the dead leaves in between classes, outside in the cold.

(“It was your fault!” “Who was the one who stupidly waved flammable material by the open fire?” “If you hadn’t bought the meat in the first place, we wouldn’t be here!” “Did you actually just say that, after all the times you begged for more?” “Shut up, jerk— but fine I’ll take this one then.”)  

They end up using that that forced extra interaction to slowly get to know each other behind the initial bickering banter.

Seongwu learns that Minhyun is smart, analytical and resourceful, as product of his diverse upbringing, and is possibly the most open and friendliest person he could ever meet despite it all.

But he also finds out that Minhyun is surprisingly less cool and calm than he thought, talking Seongwu’s ear off all day long, especially when Seongwu whines for the other recruit to please shut up again. Minhyun can also be horribly petty, and stubborn, and stuck in his ways.

Seongwu continues to feel guilty about the way he wrote off Minhyun earlier, when he finds out that the other male doesn’t fall back on his wealth, almost going in the other direction instead, on the discovery that Minhyun tries to accept as little money from his parents as he can. Perhaps, free tuition wasn’t such a code word after all.

Seongwu still doesn’t have that much spare time on his hands due to his evening part time work and flyer distribution, but living in close quarters and taking a majority of similar classes means that Minhyun is able to poke his pesky nose into all of Seongwu’s business (minus one) and forces him to eat whenever Seongwu misses a meal.

Time and time again, Seongwu stares at the extra sausages lining his tray and feels a weird pang in his stomach.

There is still an undercurrent of competition, but it’s now more of a friendly rivalry between them instead of an outright antagonistic streak of jealousy. (Not that it ever was on Minhyun’s part but semantics.)

Minhyun persuades him and the others into taking part in the annual Cheongnam cultural festival their university holds every September, and Seongwu discovers the penchant the other male (and surprisingly, Dongho too) has for singing. He discovers he’s not too bad himself as well.

They smirk at each other when they stand at the starting line of the two hundred metre sprint race, egging each other on, saying the loser has to buy the next meal. Minhyun ends up coming in second to him, but Seongwu is completely sure he threw the race on purpose and doesn’t talk to him for the next two days. He’s only minimally appeased (okay, fine, his vexation dissipates completely) the following night when Minhyun comes round to his dorm room with a takeaway box of rice cakes enough for the entire room that he bought from the street store by the station.

He recognizes it as the same rice cake shop that Seongwu had spotted Minhyun with his friends from the orphanage the week prior. His eyes had scanned over the group very quickly, an eclectic bunch of probably very nice people when Minhyun had waved him over to join them. He had already been a little late to his part time job, and so had to turn down the invitation. But again that same new longing feeling surfaced inside of him. _Next time_ , Minhyun had just said, eyes crinkling before turning back to talk to a guy beside him with chocolate brown hair and a puppy-like face.

Seongwu feels especially odd on the nights that he comes back to his dorm room to a plastic bag full of notes hanging on the door knob, with a message written in black ink on the post-it: _Ong!! Read this before you sleep!! ~ Minhyun_ , realizing that the other male had jotted down extra pointers for the evening tutorials that he missed when he ended up getting stuck at his job, unable to make it back to campus.

Being forced (okay, not so much anymore since he’s come to actually like the other male’s company) to hang out with Minhyun, also means that by extension, he starts to spend time with some of the other recruits too. Seongwu also learns that he can’t get through the tough four years of police university on his own, Dongho’s words from their orientation days coming back to haunt him.

He makes the effort to apologize to his roommates for being standoffish (they brush it off immediately saying whatever it’s not a big deal and they hug it out in the bro-est of ways - by dog piling each other on the football field after Seongwu scores the winning goal), and he attempts to finally start accepting the offers of friendship that has been continuously handed to him.

(The same ‘why him’ feeling resurfaces at times, but he attempts to force it down.)

It again doesn’t come straightaway, but over the year he begins to gym with Dongho who puts him through his pace to continue to build his stamina, run through boring patrol codes with Youngmin before they get distracted by the latest film instead, and exchanges tips with Sanggyun who is killer at overwatch and various other video games, and has to forcefully stop him from spending too much money on extras within the system.

Seongwu can feel himself begin to open up to the possibility of forming attachments again and it scares him shitless.

It’s an unfamiliar life that he begins to lead, a routine through the continuous days, weeks blending into one another. This career path that he felt like he was thrown towards slowly begins to unravel from the thorns it started out with, something that he can work towards; but he also now has people to build it with. He thinks he is beginning to feel what he thinks comfort might feel like, to perhaps do something for himself for the first time in this life, amidst the weight that still sits heavily on his shoulders.

A weight he promised to never forget.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Today, on a winter’s day just before their first year exams, Seongwu is due back at the printing shop, having finally received his paycheck of the month to be able to afford a new batch of colored flyers. He managed to get the afternoon off to do so since their narcotics tutorial was cancelled as their professor was sick, so he has time to hand distribute flyers again.

Even though his dad had given up several years back, Seongwu has never, ever thought about doing so, even though it’s been a lot harder lately to juggle police university and real life, despite intertwining so closely.

Seongwu finishes up the last of the hand outs, stretching out his back. It’s always tough trying to get people to accept his flyers, meeting with many rebuffs and cold shoulders, but at least it’s done for the day. He holds on to the last one and tucks it away into his bag again, moving to get onto the subway train.

Seongwu’s last stop for the night is back at the Association for Missing Children where there is a notice board for which people can pin up their own flyers. It’s unsettling and heartbreaking, to see the entirety of the wall covered in photos— of children ranging to teenagers, smiling back at him— a picture frozen in time.

He has just pinned up his own new copy, unable to find the last one he had up from several months ago when a voice interrupts his short hunting to check for other new flyers as well.

“Seongwu-ah!” He turns to see Jonghyun, one of the volunteer workers who he has met quite a few times in the past few years, during his visits to the building. They are the same age so they had fallen into an easy rapport but it wasn’t often that they were able to see each other since they had very different schedules. Seongwu with all his various burdens to think about and Jonghyun only spending the few hours he had up his sleeve here per week, amidst his own medical school training.

“You haven’t been back here in awhile.”

Seongwu runs a hand through his hair, explaining that he’d been more busy lately with the ramping requirements that were expected of him at school. “We’ve had blocks of on-site training this semester and I couldn’t leave campus. I even had to cut down on my work shifts too.” Jonghyun nods in sympathy. They walk out of the small room into the next one over, leaving behind the lost children temporarily.

Jonghyun stops briefly to speak to the administrator, saying he was going to take a short break, before moving on to pour Seongwu a glass of water. He hands it over to Seongwu who accepts it gratefully, and they take a seat at one of the desks, piled high with books. Jonghyun’s smile is friendly and open when he says, “Congratulations again for passing your first year. I remember when you were so happy to get into the university.”

Well, technically he hasn’t finished his last exam yet but he’ll take it.

“Thanks Jong,” Seongwu replies with ease. Before Minhyun and the others, if he could call someone a friend, it would have been Jonghyun. “And you too. Have you decided you hate the sight of blood yet?”

Jonghyun laughs, that weird laugh of his, and Seongwu cracks a smile. “No, haven’t had to deal with too much of that yet. Just models of dead bodies.” Seongwu makes a face. “But I don’t know if I really want to work in surgery anyway. It seems too impersonal to me so perhaps a general practitioner or maybe in paeds, but we’ll see. I have to actually make it through the training first.” Seongwu takes a sip of the water, and it soothes his dry throat from begging people to take his flyers earlier.

“Same here. Tell me why we decided to torture ourselves and go into these career paths again?”

Jonghyun’s eyes are wise and solemn when he replies, “It’s because we want to help people and make sure the world is a good place.”

Seongwu leans back in his chair and eyes the other man with a bright gleam. “Textbook answer. Try again.”

Their eye contact doesn’t break until they both burst into laughter again. Before they can resume their conversation, Seongwu’s phone rings in his pocket, and a small group of guys troop into the building. A little strange for the late hour, but Seongwu is distracted when he tries to not to drop the phone from his tired fingers. He waves to Jonghyun, mouthing he’ll see him next time and Jonghyun waves back, returning to work.

It’s his dad, and Seongwu frustratedly almost wants to hang up when he hears his dad ask for more cash again in place of a greeting. Honestly, Seongwu would have cut him off already had his grandmother not been living with his dad, too old to support herself anymore.

“I already gave you three hundred thousand won already, I don’t have anymore until my next pay check,” Seongwu grits down the speaker as he makes his way out the door. He argues with his dad about trying to get a real job instead of the fanciful ideas he keeps at hand. Seongwu’s shoulder brushes against the same guy with the puppy-like face from before but he doesn’t notice, too aggravated at the way his dad thinks he is an automated bank.

A flyer is clutched in the hand of the other man, a picture square on the front, of two young boys, arms slung around each other, looking like they know every kind of happiness in the world.  

Seongwu doesn’t see it and just steps out the door into the bitter cold.

 

 

 


	2. sometimes

 

 

 

The winter days slowly warm up as they begin their second year back at KNPU in spring.

“She looked at me and I couldn’t say a word,” Dongho moans dramatically before letting his forehead to drop heavily onto the cafeteria table. “I must have looked like a moron.”

Kenta, one of their other friends, and Minhyun’s dorm mate just quips, “You always look like a moron though? So what’s new?”

The rest of the boys sitting around the table crack up and a piece of sausage gets thrown, bouncing accurately off its target: Kenta’s forehead.

“Hey! If you want to waste precious food like that, just give it to me instead,” Seongwu complains as he mournfully looks at the way it rolls off the table on to the relatively shiny ground.

“Don’t even dare think about picking it and eating it,” interjects Minhyun sharply as he grabs Seongwu’s right hand in an attempt to stop him from moving towards the discarded meat (he wasn’t going to, not really).

Seongwu makes a high pitched noise and says, affronted, “Have some faith in me. I’m not that much of an animal.”

Everyone burst into laughter again immediately hearing that. They all know picking a sausage off the ground of the university’s cafeteria was probably a lot more sanitary than some of the things they’ve had to do over the last year. In the midst of the outpour of chuckles and recounts of memories, especially of training camp, Seongwu notices Minhyun wandering off, but he figures the other male just needs to use the bathroom.

“Anyway,” Dongho says in an effort to try steer the conversation back to its original starting point, “To get back to my most important story, what am I supposed to do? I literally stood in front of her and I couldn’t remember everything I had planned to say.”

“Why are you even so stressed?” Youngmin asks plainly without giving the advice that is so desperately requested. “The fearless Kang Dongho who holds nothing back in our training simulations, but here you are, scared of asking Kyulkyung out?”

“Have you seen her? A goddess,” Dongho whispers reverently. Yongguk, Taemin and Sanggyun all nod simultaneously in response. Seongwu agrees but he knows he doesn’t quite swing that way, so the appreciation is pretty superficial on his part.  

“She’s nice too,” Minhyun adds to the mix when he returns. He slides back into his empty chair next to Seongwu and casually places a round citrus fruit onto Seongwu’s empty tray. He doesn’t make a comment about it, and just continues, “I was grouped with her during the presentation for our criminal law paper last year and she was really easy to work with.”

The others don’t notice the orange mandarin as Dongho exclaims excitedly, “Wait, you know her well? Please talk to her for me.”

Minhyun laughs and says, “Just be yourself and I’m sure she’ll like you just enough. But fine— fine I’ll try to put in a good word for you.”

After Dongho preemptively profusely thanks Minhyun, the conversation derails into this year’s Cheongnam sports festival coming up in May, taking up the rest of their attentions when they discuss whether dodge ball or baseball is less taxing. No one wants to sustain any additional injuries given that their course is already so physically strenous.

Seongwu allows his hand to creep towards the fruit. Getting seconds is only something Hwang Minhyun could do. He peels the skin off it and mutters out of the corner of his mouth to Minhyun, “Really, I wasn’t that hungry for the sausage, you didn’t have to get this for me.”

Minhyun, with that same knowing look back in his eyes, just simply replies, “I didn’t get it for you because of that, I got it because I know you like mandarins,” and Seongwu immediately feels the oddest feeling.

 

(He doesn't realize for a long while to come, but that particular feeling was Seongwu's heart falling to his feet.)

 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Sometime in June, they sit there up on the hill by their dormitories, close to the statue of the late inspector general, a symbol of their university.

The heat has continued to increase over the days, leaving them already puffing after completing the short run up the steep slope.

Seongwu leans back onto his elbows on to the concrete steps as he allows his racing heart beat to calm back down. Minhyun breathes deeply beside him. Seongwu groans, saying, “Oh man, how I would give for a big bowl of samgyetang right now.” A fast memory of how his grandmother used to feed both him and Daniel the dish, chicken stuffed with rice and ginseng served in delicious broth on sweltering summer days flashes through him. He’d been resistant then, complaining about the tinge of bitterness to the flavor. Now he would give anything for it.

Minhyun agrees, saying, “Homemade samgyetang is the best.” He stretches out his long legs in front of him and continues, “Can’t say the watery radish soup we get every night compares, but I suppose we shouldn’t complain.” He smiles. “And it’s still better than all the junk food I know you secretly eat.”

Seongwu’s face is hot from where the sun is shining on it, beating down on his closed eyelids. He says, “Junk food is the joy of life. What’s the point of living if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

“But,” he hears Minhyun reply. “Are you enjoying?”

Seongwu opens his eyes to see the question in Minhyun’s expression.

“Real answer or fake?”

“Real answer please.” Minhyun moves his hand as if to almost touch his face, but he gets a flick on the forehead instead.

“Ow,” Seongwu moans. “What was that for?”

Minhyun glares, saying, “The fact that you were even thinking of bullshitting me.” He pulls his legs back in again, feet settling firm on the step below them. “Just so you know, I can see right through it so don’t even bother.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Seongwu replies with a snort. “Don’t give me that when you’re the one who is just all talk.” He sticks out his tongue at his friend.

“I’ll cut that off if you do it again.”

“So vicious. A good thing you didn’t go into medicine then.” Minhyun shoves him lightly.

“Don’t change the subject.”

Seongwu licks his lips. He’s never liked the way Minhyun focuses on him, and the way Minhyun’s eyes narrow on him currently is more intense than usual. “Life… I guess it’s not that bad.” Well, it’s somewhat true, it could be worse, has been worse. “I’m not sure what it is lately,” Seongwu pauses to break eye contact, to stare into the field of trees lining the path, “But I think I’ve been enjoying it a little more.”

There’s a weird sort of tranquil serenity to the atmosphere around them, away from the hectic schedules of both university and work. The way the numerous branches of leaves sway in the wind, growing old without any worries. Seongwu almost feels jealous.

“It’s me, right?”

“Hm?”

“I’m the new change in your life,” Minhyun answers smoothly, fluttering his eyelashes. They’re longer and prettier than any other ones Seongwu has seen before. He blinks, feeling the odd sensation return.

“If I said I’ll cut off your eyelashes, would that be hypocritical of me?” Seongwu asks dispassionately.

“Yes.” Their simultaneous laughter twines around each other.

After a period of silence, Seongwu slowly answers, “I don’t like to talk about myself and I don’t like to make new friends.” He looks again at Minhyun. “But you forced me to do both, and it’s… not that bad,” Seongwu repeats. “I guess I probably should thank you,” he finishes lamely.

Seongwu’s lips are slick after he licks them again and he sees Minhyun’s gaze drop to it.

“You’re welcome,” Minhyun finally replies. He jumps up before Seongwu can blink, and is already several meters away when he turns back to ask, “So, are you just going to sit there and look at me or are you going to come?”

Minhyun stands there silhouetted against the faraway sun.

Seongwu shakes off the way his inside is knotted over and gets onto his feet to stand up again. He runs towards Minhyun who just smiles at him wordlessly, before they take off side by side down the hill again.  

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

 

Their second year flies by, lightning quick.

Seongwu has narrowly missed dinner (again). He hasn’t been at his construction job lately since it's too cold, and he'd take the indoors work at the nearby neighborhood book cafe despite the lower pay over it anyway.

It’s not too hard a life since shelving books and making coffee inside far beats carrying blocks of concrete so he really can’t complain. Also at least this time instead of a dangerous worksite, Minhyun is able to occasionally tag along, deigning to spend some of his free hours. He accompanies Seongwu during his shifts, helping to wile away the boring hours on slow days.  

With their second semester midterm exams coming up soon, Seongwu thinks he’s maybe gotten about four hours a sleep per night in the past week, and can feel the shadow of bags under his eyes, vastly pronounced. He systematically sweeps the floor, closes the blinds, wipes down the tables, and locks the register in his normal routine of closing up.

His stomach makes a growling noise and as if right on cue, he feels a buzzing vibration in his pocket as a kkt message comes through.

> beef or pork

Seongwu sends back a simple cow emoji.

His phone immediately rings and Seongwu answers it without needing to look at the caller ID. He also doesn’t wait for a greeting before saying into the receiver as he switches off the light with his free hand, “Yes, yes, I know it’s late and I shouldn’t have waited until now to eat dinner. You obviously also know that too since you’re calling to bother me.” He can already picture the nagging expression that Minhyun probably has plastered on his face on the other side.

Nothing has changed over the last year with Minhyun continually still trying to force feed him, whenever he thinks Seongwu has gone too long without food. And though Seongwu likes to outwardly be whiny over the excessive affection, inwardly at times, he does revel in the surprisingly nice feeling, being looked after.

“How are you going to pass the police field duty training we have next month if you continue to skip dinner like this? You already know you can barely run for ten km as is. Training is going to be more intense.”

“It’s why I have you I guess,” Seongwu answers him before he continues spritely, “to constantly nag at me like a mother.”

Minhyun huffs, a sullenness that transmits, “I’m not going to be there with you during the three weeks, you idiot. You’re in the investigation division, and I’m in anti-crime remember?”

True. Seongwu hums. “You’re going to miss me during those three weeks we’re apart right?” He walks towards the bus stop that is a couple of streets down from the shop. It’s still noisy in the neighborhood with plenty of people in the area. The city almost never sleeps.

“What happened to the guy that didn’t want friends? Your slowly growing ego is making your head get bigger, Ong.”

“If only you could turn back time now huh? And speak for yourself,” Seongwu replies, an implicit joking reference that he knows Minhyun will get in his words.

He gets the exact reaction that he wants to elicit when he hears Minhyun yell down the other end of the phone that he _does not have a big head, thank you very much and just because you know I’m jealous about your smaller face doesn’t mean you can hold it against me all the damn time_ and Seongwu has to pull the phone away from his ear before he blows an eardrum, chortling slightly.

Seongwu reaches the bus stop and looks at his watch, another fifteen minutes until the bus is due to arrive. It’s a good thing the wind isn’t blowing too much but he still wraps his jacket tighter against his body, shivering. “Have you done the assignment for Professor Kim’s class yet?”

“Yes but after that insult, you think I’m going to let you look at it?” That pettiness that he’s come to be so familiar with is palpable.

“Minhyun,” Seongwu cajoles. His smile turns slightly devious, knowing what the other male likes. “Hyun-ah."

“No way, no you don’t. Don’t think you can sweet talk me into helping you like that. You think I’m going to cave so easily to a simple shortening of my name? I’m immune.” Minhyun’s words sound like they are getting louder.

“C’mon, _Hyun-ah_ , you know that I’m probably going to fail this paper if not for you. I only have you.” There’s silence for a couple of seconds and Seongwu feels the ensuing sentence instead of hearing it.

“And you better remember that.” The words get breathed into the shell of his ear and though he knew he was supposed to meet Minhyun here, he still jumps slightly in surprise when he turns to see the other male there in front of him.

“Hi,” Seongwu says.  

Minhyun holds up the small lunch box (or rather, dinner box) that he picked up for Seongwu in his hands. “Beef, just as you asked for.” Seongwu goes to pull out his wallet to pass Minhyun some money to cover it. Minhyun quickly bats his hands and says, “It was cheap. It’s okay.”

Seongwu grumbles as he stows it back into his pocket again, taking the food from Minhyun. “Fine, but I’m buying you lunch the next weekend we can go off campus.”

“Sure, I’ve been craving some Italian actually.”

“That’s date food.”

“So?”

They both move to sit down on the bench under the shelter in an effort to keep out of the crisp breeze that is starting to pick up. Balancing the bowl on his lap, Seongwu opens up the lid to inhale the delicious wafting smell that emits from it. He takes a large mouthful and chews it slowly. The food is still warm, and his chest in turn feels warm as well.

“Meeting with your mom go okay?” Seongwu asks when he swallows the beef and rice.

It’s a somewhat touchy subject. For the time that Seongwu had hoped Minhyun hadn’t overheard that one conversation with his professor, in an ironic twist of fate, Seongwu had ended up stumbling in on one of Minhyun’s personal calls earlier in the semester. In his defence he had just been dropping by Minhyun’s dorm room in order to return him his stack of notes, when he had caught the tail end of the dialogue:

“No, I am not doing _that_. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m happy here,” Minhyun had said down into the cellphone, in the flattest tone Seongwu has ever heard the other male use.

Seongwu’s hand paused in the air where he had had just knocked on the door to announce his presence when Minhyun had turned around to wear another length into the ground of his dorm room. Seongwu was going to leave without fuss when Minhyun just holds up his hand as though in a gesture to tell him _it’s fine, stay_.

“Mother, please. You don’t understand,” Minhyun’s voice was gradually growing more agitated. Seongwu wasn’t sure what to do and just busied himself with reading the back label of the shampoo bottle that was sitting on the shelf. “You never do.”

A frustrated noise emits from Minhyun’s throat before he answered back into the phone, “I’ll talk to you another time. A professor wants to speak to me.” Seongwu notes the lie.

“Problem?” Seongwu asks casually when Minhyun throws the phone onto the bed in annoyance.

Minhyun shoves a hand through his hair, an unusual picture of disorder today, when Seongwu takes in the baggy pyjama top and pants he still wears (at noon which is very late for someone like Minhyun) and the state of his messy locks. There’s sleep lines carved onto his slightly bloated face and bags under his eyes and the unkempt look stirs something deep within him. “Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?” It’s not like he wants to pry, really, it’s not his MO at all but it just comes out, a sudden inclination to give back to Minhyun at least five percent that he has provided him.

Minhyun shakes his head, saying, “You don’t need to hear about my boring life. It’s not that important.”

Seongwu frowns.

For all the sharp prickles that Minhyun has attempted to divest from Seongwu’s hard outer shell, he was notoriously closed off himself about his family, not actively volunteering any information. Apart from the initial talk they had during that one drinking session and the reveal that he was adopted, Seongwu hasn’t really heard much else about his home life. He’d just presumed that everything was super dandy in the Hwang household.

“Tell me. I’ll trade you one secret for yours.” Seongwu doesn’t know why he says this, it’s not like he’s planning to reciprocate.

There is a quiet chuckle when Minhyun hears his offer. He sighs in resignation. “My mother. She’s pretty much completely ignored me ever since I was adopted.” Seongwu doesn’t say anything and just allows Minhyun to finish. “I don’t know, I guess I’m a reminder of the fact that I’m not really her son. Just someone trying to be.” The bitterness is back.

Minhyun moves to sit on the bed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he continues, “Anyway, I sent her an invite to our open day, to maybe give her the opportunity to see what we’re doing here but she turned it down. Pretty sure she didn’t even consider it.”

“And today?”

“That was her calling to say that she was disappointed in me. That she wants me to stop pretending like I can make a difference in this world by becoming a police officer. To get a better paying job by joining the company and stop disrespecting the family name.”

“Ouch.”

Seongwu swivels on the desk chair that he’s currently on, twirling the pen that he picked up in his hand at the same time. He has this weird tendency not to sit still.

“Pretty much,” Minhyun answers back glumly as he stretches in bed. Seongwu can see the small sliver of bare skin when the shirt rises. “It’s been an ongoing battle with her ever since I told her I wanted to apply for this university. I mean, she ignores me for the most part anyway so I guess it’s not a big deal.” There’s a dark twist to the curl in his lips, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Seongwu wants to tell him in that moment that despite it all, despite the crappy hand, at least he still has family. But he doesn’t because it’ll open up a can of worms he doesn’t want to have to deal with. So he just says, “You know, I feel kinda bad for saying that all rich kids can buy their way through life.” Seongwu stops to place the pen down back on the table before asking lightly, “You think you’re gonna get cut off?”

Minhyun lip twitches before he snorts, ungracefully. “Pretty sure it’ll be too much of a blow to their image to publicly disown a son. Anyway, they’d be pretty heartless to do it to an already once discarded son too.” Seongwu hand stills, gears in his brain working extra hard, but Minhyun carries on without pause, “They’re already copping it with all the questions about why I haven’t joined the company.” He stands up from the bed to walk towards the closet, poking inside to pick out clothes for the day. His voice is muffled when he continues, “She keeps telling her friends that I’m just on a,” Minhyun’s hand drops the t-shirt he’s holding to make quotations marks around the next few words, “journey to find myself, and that I’ll join in a few years. I think she’s just disappointed she can’t brag about me at her weekly gatherings.”

"If she doesn't consider you brag worthy, then all faith is lost in this world," Seongwu mutters under his breath.

"What was that?" Minhyun's head pops back out of the closet.

"Nothing. I just said do you even know anything about technology?” Seongwu asks now pointedly in a jibe in regards to one of Minhyun's flaws, especially being brought up in a family who helped pave the way in creating some of the most spectacular pieces of new advancement.  

“Is that really all you can’t say to the situation?” Minhyun turns around to ask him amusedly, not taking offence to his words.

Seongwu shrugs. “I don’t know, what else do you want me to say? Your mom’s attitude is bullshit and she sucks big time?

Minhyun barks out a laughter, which is so contagious that it causes Seongwu to laugh as well.

Once the room steadies back again, they are both quiet for several short moments until Seongwu decidedly blurts out something that he regrets immediately the moment the words escape his mouth, “Want a hug?”

Minhyun is visibly surprised at Seongwu’s active offer of physical affection, and just stares at him like he’s just grown a second head. He makes no move to accept or decline it and Seongwu colors a little, knowing that yes, it is very out of the blue to propose something like that but really, it can’t be _that_ offensive. He’s seen Minhyun hug other people before.

“What? You just look sad that’s all. My grandmother used to give me a hug when I was a little ‘ol sad kid and it would make me feel ten times better. We can’t have you all mopey for the rest of the day.” Minhyun finally laughs again when he processes Seongwu’s reasoning which sounded way better in his head, but whatever. “If you don’t want it, then I’m gonna go. I’ve got stuff to do.”

Seongwu moves to walk out of the dorm room, trying to ignore the rising embarrassment he feels when Minhyun just grabs his hand and pulls him back to himself, not allowing him to leave. Their bodies collide in a soft movement when Minhyun enfolds him in a hug. It’s the tightest of hugs that nearly turns his bones to dust but Seongwu lifts his own arms to close just as tightly around Minhyun as well.

They’ve sparred, they’ve rolled around, limbs wrapped over each other, but never have they hugged before.

Minhyun is warm, almost like a furnace, and he smells of clean laundry, even though he currently looks like a downright mess. He’s warm, almost like basking in the sun, as Seongwu rests his chin against Minhyun’s shoulder.

Even now, after so many months of knowing Minhyun, it’s still so hard for his mind to wrap around the idea that someone could care for him, and that he could possibly care for someone else. It’s the same attachment theory that he’s been so resistant to all these years, but with the constant chipping away, the threads are slowly untangling and again, it almost immediately wants him to pull away like he always does.

But he doesn’t. He allows himself to stand there hugging Minhyun, closer to anyone he’s ever let himself get to.

“You still owe me a secret,” Minhyun mumbles into his hair, as his hands rub soothing circles over Seongwu’s back now. Who’s comforting who? Seongwu just tightens his arms, gripping the sides of Minhyun’s shirt, mouth now going dry.

He hastily resorts to flippancy, an easy way out as usual. “Hm, my secret is… my secret is that apart from the ones that my grandmother used to give me, I really hate hugs in general but I must say, this one is not so bad after all. The next one is going to cost though.”  

Hearing the words, Minhyun pulls back from the hug, and Seongwu doesn’t like the way he immediately misses the contact. He ignores it to face the indecipherable stare that is now situated on Minhyun’s face and suddenly there’s a rush of something unfamiliar, a rush of gold that fills him from his head to his toes.

It’s heady and daunting all at the same time as Seongwu’s heart stutters in his chest.

⚘

Seongwu quickly brings himself back to reality as Minhyun continues talking about his dinner with his mother, and how nothing has really changed. The open day was coming up soon and she was still being resistant to the idea, citing the excuse of travelling to London for the weekend. Minhyun’s tone is light, like he doesn’t care, like he’s used to it and Seongwu rubs at his own ribs, at how it seems somewhat tight, as though he can still feel the shuddering from that last time they hugged.

There’s only five minutes left until the bus is due to arrive. They sit there side by side, thighs almost touching. Seongwu looks to his left.

“It’s her loss you know,” Seongwu offers up casually into the space between them, and Minhyun’s eyes just lock on to his. It’s almost a mirror, how the sky, an inky blackness is now reflected in his pupils. Seongwu's hand pauses from where he’s about to bring another spoonful of rice to his mouth when Minhyun continues to look at him. “What?”

Minhyun just tuts. “You know, for someone who once hated my company, it almost sounds like you are enjoying it now.”  

Seongwu feels his cheeks redden. “I never hated your company,” he splutters before grudgingly continuing, “Only the idea of it. Anyway, so that your own big head doesn’t grow even bigger, just so you know, I only continue to keep you around for the free food.” Minhyun grins fast at that, playfully pushing his shoulder. Seongwu decides to add after a further moment of short hesitance, “But, well, I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

The words repeat themselves.

Their eyes haven’t broken contact.

Minhyun’s smile grows bigger. “Ong Seongwu, the man of so many charming words.”

Seongwu rolls his eyes, and replies, trying to backpedal, “That’s the best you’re going to get out of me alright? Can’t have you thinking that everyone is in love with you.” He fiddles with the spoon that is resting back down in the bowl. “But, you know what? It’s true. That’s how I feel anyway, that you’re a great person despite everything, and if she can’t see that then it’s her loss.”

He doesn’t quite get the bantering answer that he expects back when Minhyun just says, “Seongwu—”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Minhyun says sincerely. _For what?_ Seongwu thinks, and Minhyun answers. “For everything, for just being you.” He then continues carefully, brow knitting, “And you know I’m always here for you, right? You can tell me anything.” He’s sitting just a hand’s breadth away. The hints of concern in Minhyun’s eyes almost makes the resolve that sits just under the first layer of his skin, so close to the surface, a resolve he’s been trying to ignore for the past few months cave under the force of the expression alone.

But since he’s well used to his own stubbornness, he doesn’t allow himself the luxury and takes a step back.

“I know,” Seongwu answers back carelessly now, “What would I do without you?”  

“Die, probably.” Minhyun is also back to his joking self again.

“Please, I survived all these years without you.”  

 

(Minhyun is always there for him, but Seongwu doesn't know if he can repay him the same favor.)

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Minhyun completes their second year top of the class, and Seongwu finishes in the top twenty which is really not a bad feat at all considering his attentions are usually pulled elsewhere.

They hug one more time in front of the ranking board; this time the fiercest of hugs, a culmination of effort.

“Congratulations,” Seongwu murmurs into Minhyun’s ear as he is still enveloped in the other recruit’s arms. It’s a nice thought, to know they are now halfway through the gruelling course.

The overwhelming happiness that Seongwu feels is still almost suffocating but the sole presence of Minhyun comforts him, always.

It’s a feeling that had slowly crept up on him, and never left.

They eventually make their way up to the rooftop of the dormitories after being stopped several times through the hallways, getting slaps on the backs in praise by their friends and fellow recruits. Taemin had yelled at them to hurry the fuck and come back soon to join the celebratory drinks they had all snuck into the dormitories. Seongwu had yelled back, soon.

The sky is dark tonight, with no twinkles to be seen overhead, but when Seongwu looks over at Minhyun, he shines brighter than any night star.

It’s in moments like this, that Seongwu thinks, he thinks he might want to kiss Minhyun, but all he does is ask, “Did you end up deciding on your plans for break?”

Minhyun huffs out a small whoosh of breath as he leans against the concrete barrier. He answers, “I took your advice and I’m going to work at the company, well part time probably. My mother actually glanced in my direction and smiled for the first time in five years when I told her about it.”

Seongwu replies, “What did I say, compromise and maybe things will be okay.” Despite his lack of favor for her in sympathy for his friend, he had nudged the idea to Minhyun about not burning all his bridges. Not just in case he would get cut off, but to make sure he still had a family.

Minhyun scrunches his nose, and Seongwu immediately wants to turn around and go inside to accept the drinks Taemin proposed just before. “Can’t I just continue to live my life like this?”

“No, I mean, think of all the money you could inherit if you’re on good terms with them!” Seongwu gets a hit on the arm for that one. “Anyway, you’re not going to suddenly fall in love with playing with electronics and leave me here by myself are you?” Seongwu teases, tone playful, even though there is an undercurrent of something else.  

“Fat chance, they’ll probably put me through my paces and make me run coffee and photocopy a million things. I’ll be so bored out of my mind, I’ll be raring to come back to you,” Minhyun says, bumping shoulders again with Seongwu.  

They share a laugh, and Seongwu can feel the vibrations reverberating in his chest, a rising feeling that does the opposite to soothing him.

“Come visit if you’re free?”

“Maybe.”

 

(He does, meeting him on his lunch break, with a pink grapefruit ade in one hand, and takeaway box of galbi-jim in the other, and the look that Minhyun gives him burns into the back of Seongwu’s eyelids for the following days to come.)

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

The tension between them reaches a sky high peak when they both return to KNPU early, in the last week of the summer holidays halfway through their third year.

Seongwu knows he’s been skirting around the burgeoning emotions that he’s realized he’s been harboring for a long time now.

They’ve spent the entire first semester dancing around each other, and Seongwu is almost at the end of his rope. The same one that sits just around his neck, like a noose.

Today they’ve been out for a run around the track for the past half an hour when Seongwu finds he can’t help the way his eyes rove over Minhyun’s sleek form, appreciating the god given lines. He can’t help the way his eyes follow the bead of perspiration that tracks down Minhyun’s neck, slipping into the collar of his top, causing his mind to go into overdrive, thinking about where it will end up. He’s been trying to ignore it as much as he could, trying to make it seem like nothing was amiss, but all of his senses are heightened today after he’s had a particularly rough morning.

The motion that he had filed to reopen Daniel’s case last year had been accepted, but the officer in charge just replied today that there were still walking cold.

Seongwu ends up yelling at Minhyun for something so ridiculously stupid like stepping on his foot by accident, and the other male worriedly asks him what is going on.

“Seriously what has gotten into you today?” Minhyun frowns after he apologizes profusely for the misstep. They move towards where the drinking fountains are situated as Seongwu stews internally. “Is everything alright? You seem especially more tense these last couple of weeks.” The silence between them is somewhat cloying, and Seongwu takes a deep breath, trying to compartmentalize in the way he’s been doing more of lately because he knows Minhyun will just give him one of those requisite looks again.

The same one that is already starting to form.

Seongwu attempts to tamper down how on edge he feels and says, “I— It’s nothing much. Just stressed out I guess.” He rushes through the excuse hoping that Minhyun would just drop the subject.

However the way that Minhyun phrases his next sentence, the way he says, “Tell me what’s wrong,” in such a fucking gentle manner, eyes full of concern, is what tips Seongwu over the edge.

“Stop,” Seongwu blurts out bluntly, quickly, with almost a sharp tone. “You always try and push too far. Just— stop okay? I can’t handle it right now.”

Minhyun is uncharacteristically silent for once following Seongwu’s words, and he almost wants to kick himself. Despite the statement hitting home semi-truthfully; it’s not Minhyun’s fault, it’s his own. However, he doesn’t want to deal with the possible consequences if he tells Minhyun the real truth to the matter; either truth.

Before Minhyun can say anything else, Seongwu swiftly retreats back to the main building, leaving Minhyun behind to stare at him with his stupid knowing gaze, boring like lasers into his back.

 

 

 

Now, after several hours of alternating between taking a cold shower, trying to run through the best ways to apologize, and fighting against himself internally, Seongwu finds himself staring at the plain white wood in front of him.

He slowly lifts his arm up to knock against it, and pushes it open when he hears, “Come in.” Only a handful of students have returned leaving the small dorm is quiet and empty apart from the sole person he is looking for. There’s an orange glow from the lamp that Minhyun has switched on, casting a warm hue over the bed where he is currently curled up on, reading.

The pair of them just stare at each other for a minute. Minhyun’s head tilts in a silent question.

“I’m really sorry about before,” Seongwu finally offers up sincerely. “Just work— you know general life stuff, and I really shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Minhyun’s eyes are still sharp but he shrugs. “Apology accepted.”

“Good.” Especially since Seongwu doesn’t like it when Minhyun is mad at him. “Are you free to spar one on one tonight with me?” Seongwu throws the suggestion into the air, even though he doesn’t phrase it as one. He figures it’s the only way they’ll be able to resolve this wall of tension between them hopefully. They haven’t been able to spar lately in the past semester because of their increasing schedules.

A flicker of surprise crosses over Minhyun’s features but it quickly disappears as fast as it appeared. He seems to understand Seongwu’s current mood because he doesn’t query anything further, just closes his book to place it down gently on the bedside table and merely nods. “Now, or?”

Seongwu returns the question, answering easily, “I’m ready when you are.”

He leaves Minhyun to get prepared and walks steadily out of the dormitory, towards the nearby gymnasium where they normally hold their training sessions. Seongwu is almost done lining up three of the thick mats in the centre of the room to protect their bodies from the hard ground when he hears Minhyun walk in, footsteps echoing loudly in the vast, empty hall.

The comfortable silence continues as they occupy themselves in stretching, loosening their tight limbs. Seongwu rolls his right shoulder once, then his left in an attempt to remove his own kinks, but it doesn’t quite help the still tense line that continues to radiate through his entire body.

Seongwu finds that his eyes can’t help again but to linger on Minhyun as the other man extends his shoulders in a fluid movement, the collar of his white uniform slipping down slightly to reveal a small patch of pristine, pale skin.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Seongwu mutters under his breath as he tightens his belt in his attempt to ignore the uncharacteristic goosebumps that has appeared on his arms despite the heat of the stifling gymnasium. “Full contact.”

“You know you are going to lose this one,” Minhyun sings out as he prowls lethargically in a circle around Seongwu. There’s a slight gleam in his eye, almost hungry, predatory.

“You wish.” Seongwu hisses out a fast exhale of breath as he mimics the same movement, scouting sharply for the smallest flinch of limbs that would indicate the first attack. Over the years, he’s prided himself on picking up judo quickly, despite starting from nothing. Thanks to Minhyun. “Don’t hold back.” They tap hands in the first meeting of palms and assume stance again.

“I never do.”

If there was anything Seongwu enjoys about sparring with Minhyun, it was that he always pushed him to his utmost ability. He doesn’t treat him with kid gloves and never once hesitates to let him know exactly where he is lacking, which spurs him on to do better. Minhyun is right in that he never holds back and Seongwu wants to give him the same treatment.

Minhyun is fast and skilled, lunging forward first to push Seongwu onto the defensive in the beginnings of their dance. Parry, block, sidestep. Seongwu feels himself get driven towards the edge of the mat and he notes the way his skin sparks every time Minhyun’s fingers come into close contact with it— tendrils of pain that fade fast into pleasure. Minhyun chuckles freely, a wide smile curling onto his face as he clearly enjoys the cornering of Seongwu.

Suddenly, there is an overwhelming thought when all Seongwu can focus on is that Minhyun has never been more _beautiful_.

The realization knocks the air out of Seongwu’s chest, more solidly than any physical punch.

In the span of the two seconds that Seongwu’s concentration is split, Minhyun hooks his foot around Seongwu’s leg and in one smooth movement, sweeps him off his feet. Seongwu lands hard onto the ground feeling the jarring thump reverberate through his body.

“You’re distracted,” Minhyun comments in astute observation as he extends a hand out. Seongwu lies there, staring at the lifeline, almost wanting to agree out loud, to tell Minhyun that it’s him that consumes the emptiness that should be his mind.

“Just a bit tired,” Seongwu bites back, pushing the unwanted thoughts back to the darkest portion of his brain as he willingly accepts the hand hold and lithely picks himself back up, back in to a standing position. “Let’s do it again.” He’s frustrated, but more at his own self for the mistakes. He can hear his pants, loud and uneven, different to that of Minhyun’s almost rhythmic, calm breathing.

The sight of the other male, as always not even looking like he’s broken a sweat lights a fire through Seongwu.

There’s no more time to exchange words as they return to the relentless continuing formations of their back and forth. The blood is pounding in Seongwu’s ears, as he blocks a jab seamlessly, before weaving out of the grappling hold that Minhyun attempts. He aims a fast grab in the small opening that he sees at Minhyun’s undefended left side, but irritatingly enough, the attack is fended off with quick expectation.

But Seongwu’s annoyance fades easily as his lips soon stretches into a reluctant grin. “How have you gotten even better yet again?” He isn’t envious, but more fascinated with the way that Minhyun always, always finds a way to be one step ahead of him.

“More like you’ve been slacking again,” Minhyun counters as he shoots out a right cross, then a left hook. Seongwu moves to block and deflect each move with a straight forearm, wincing when the last one sends a sharp jolt through his limb. He shakes out the ensuing numbness. “You’ve missed too many training sessions during the semester.”

Seongwu ignores Minhyun’s pressing statements and just wraps his right arm around Minhyun’s shoulder in an effort to throw him. Minhyun rolls out of Seongwu’s grasp easily, before straightening out his uniform, as he fixes him with an analytical look.

Minhyun looks serious in front of him, face slightly tense as he stares back. Seongwu can see that there are many questions hovering at the tip of the other man’s tongue; he too still has questions of his own as well, but he knows if he gives in to the white hot star that is burning inside of him, it is going to consume him whole.

When Seongwu again doesn't say anything back in reply, the solemnity held by the other man dissolves, as Minhyun quietly laughs. “I remember when they reinforced about patience in our first hand-combat session,” Minhyun says as he starts to move again, but infuriatingly staying just out of reach. “Didn’t think it would be so applicable to real life.”

Seongwu halts in his tracks, to take in Minhyun’s words, wondering about the double meaning behind them. Minhyun uses this momentary interruption in Seongwu’s concentration again to catch him off guard. Minhyun deftly darts forward to once more take Seongwu down in another fast movement. They struggle in a mess of tangled limbs as they fall onto the mat.

Fortunately for him, gravity is on his side today and soon Seongwu finds himself on top of Minhyun, having managed to flip him over. His whole weight is now leaned in heavily to keep Minhyun trapped between his body and the soft mat. He wedges in to pin Minhyun’s right leg down, to keep him from breaking out of his hold and when Minhyun instinctively bucks his hips in his own desperate effort, there is a split second when they both freeze. Their uniforms have come away loose from their belts from where they had aggressively grabbed each other’s lapels, and Seongwu is now very aware there is hot skin pressed flushed against hot skin.

They’ve sparred a lot over the years, but it has never felt like this.

Minhyun’s breathing has finally hastened, coming out in shallow exhales that matches Seongwu’s own rapidly beating pulse. Seongwu knows too, that it isn’t the only thing that matches, with both sets of eyes darkening simultaneously with the quickening arousal.

Seongwu loosens his hold when he feels Minhyun go limp under him.

A mistake, because Minhyun immediately tenses again to roll them over simultaneously, using both the element of surprise and momentum to switch their positions. The world spins and Seongwu finds himself still skin to skin, but this time at the mercy of Minhyun instead, one strong forearm barring him down, against his neck, the other holding his left wrist above his head. Seongwu grunts in disbelief as he struggles against Minhyun’s tightening grip, _how did he not see that coming?_

Seongwu feels Minhyun apply increasing steady pressure and slowly the oxygen in his lungs begin to run out. He becomes deliriously aware of the fact that Minhyun now has him in a chokehold beneath his fingers, arm having slid across to allow a warm palm to wrap almost lovingly around his throat. He isn’t choking him hard, not really, but just enough in a show of victory. It’s enough to still make Seongwu dizzy, dizzy with an unfamiliar need. Everything around him slows down and becomes hypersensitive, a tightness everywhere, like he is about to combust.

Seongwu uses his free hand to tug down sharply at Minhyun’s hair, pulling it enough to allow the other man to relent his hold. The pressure over his throat lifts but Minhyun’s fingers still trail lightly across the skin almost like an invisible hold over him as it brushes over the skittering pulse that lie between the sinews. Seongwu greedily gulps the air, filling his lungs back up again, chest heaving. There is something unfolding in him, something dark and so very fragile—

“Sloppy,” Minhyun comments looking down at him, as an imperious smile reaches his lips. His face as always is close, too close. “And like I said before, distracted. You know better than that.”

Seongwu growls testily as he jerks in Minhyun’s embrace but there’s no way out with his entire body being pinned down by Minhyun’s straddle, “Okay, fine, I—I yield.”

“Say that again,” Minhyun says cheekily, breathing hot air into his ear. Seongwu shivers. “I didn’t quite catch that.”   

“I said, I _yield_ ,” Seongwu answers again in frustration, letting his head fall back down onto the mat. “You win.” This time.

Minhyun hovers above him, eyes still dark and pupils dilated. He doesn’t move to get off Seongwu, in fact, he just moves his palm to rest onto Seongwu’s chest, and the opposing hand tightens even further around Seongwu’s wrist. They both become firmly aware of their positions again, just staying unmoving for a few moments. The only sound in the training gym, their labored breathing intermingling.

“You know, you could kill a man doing that,” Seongwu just says softly, testing out his voice again, it’s slightly gravelly.

“That’s the whole point,” Minhyun says and Seongwu can’t stop staring at his ruby red lips. “But don’t worry, as long as you trust me—” His voice trails off slowly. “Do you?” His question is now all but a whisper now.

Seongwu swallows, and his fingers move to fist against the front of the draping collar above him, the material crumpling in his hand, as he contemplates their positions and assesses the ensuing possibilities. Minhyun’s lips are all just but a fraction of hesitation away from his own now, and Seongwu immediately knows this won’t end well. He knows the consequences, he knows his own limitations too well, and most of all he knows that the entirety of a kiss would be nothing more than the prelude to the devastation of his heart, of their hearts.

But since he doesn’t wish to think of his circumstance, of his continued fears, of his burdens— not tonight at least, Seongwu allows himself to lie very still on the mat, not rolling away. He just allows himself to say, “Of course I trust you,” in a way as if it’s the only words he knows how to.

He allows Minhyun to lean forward, to close the gap in placing his lips softly onto his own, and in that one moment, he allows himself to enjoy.

To blatantly ignore the way that everything disconcertingly fits in to its rightful place the second their lips touch.   

Seongwu startles when Minhyun shifts, and Minhyun uses this opportunity to coax his relaxed lips apart. Minhyun tastes like salt and sweat but most of all, he tastes like what Seongwu would interpret as the word home if it were an object that was tangible to him.

“You think this is all going to end even before it begins, don’t you?"

Seongwu doesn’t reply, doesn’t know how to reply because it’s _true_. Minhyun doesn’t let him think any further and just kisses the unsaid answer from his lips, tenderly, like he is trying to capture something so delicate and fleeting.

The kiss soon becomes heated— deep and needy, nothing like what he’s ever felt before, and fissions of desire shoot through him. Seongwu feels Minhyun grinding his hips down, and he knows, he knows he should put an end to this. But, his entire body is aching, not just physically and so Seongwu answers back, rocking against Minhyun in an effort to feel more, to have more. He is dazed and poleaxed as he leans in against Minhyun’s hands that are seeking, searching all over skin that has been left bare by the open uniform, leaving hot streaks behind everywhere.

Fingers ghost up his side, tracing tiny little never-ending circles on his ribs. Seongwu gasps as their lips meet again and again fervently, and there is just so much heat, it’s intoxicating, _burning_. He allows his hands to tug at Minhyun’s own belt, letting the uniform top fall even further off his shoulders, revealing the full picture of milky skin before his eyes.

“Minhyun—,” Seongwu whispers hesitatingly. Minhyun cups Seongwu’s jaw in his hands, forcing him to look at him directly once again. The concern he had witnessed before has now turned into full blown desire, but at the same time, there is still a fondness that makes Seongwu’s chest hurt.

“You said you trust me,” is all Minhyun says again.

It’s unnerving the way that Minhyun can make Seongwu feel. There is a part of him that wishes it wasn’t this good, wasn’t this perfect— a part of him that wishes that he could just simply walk away from it all. But it’s too late. Seongwu is already drowning and he doesn’t want to be pulled from the deep ocean that surrounds him.

“Minhyun,” Seongwu breathes out again, this time however, voice full of wonderment, as Minhyun sweeps his lips over his neck, and the slightly sharp scrape of teeth causes him to forget everything except that one name. Seongwu groans desperately when a bruising kiss is placed over his chest, right over his heart, the kisses continuing lower and lower, over his stomach, down to the skin just above the waistband. Minhyun looks at him again, with that same fondness through his tousled fringe and a dark fanning of eyelashes as he nudges Seongwu’s hips up to slide the baggy uniform pants off.

The smile that Minhyun gives him as he takes in the lines of Seongwu’s body is reverential but there is a cheeky glint still remaining there too. “I guess we both win tonight.” He curls his hand around the shaft of Seongwu’s cock where it already lies thick and hard on his belly, freed from the confines of his briefs. Seongwu’s stomach muscles clenches under his exploring touch.

Minhyun's thumb swirls around the sensitive tip, spreading the slick precum all over before leaning down to lick gently at the end, once.

“Don’t,” Seongwu gasps. “Tease me.” Minhyun smirks ever so slightly, and ignores him, continuing to prolong the torture as long as he can, trying to decipher what Seongwu likes the best (everything). He licks a long stripe along the underside, moving to nuzzle down at base before then placing light kisses all over his length.

Seongwu shudders from the need he feels and can’t stop his hips from stuttering when Minhyun’s hot mouth wraps entirely over his cock, taking it in deep, as much as he can.

“If only you can see yourself now,” Minhyun exhales roughly as he comes up for air, both spit and Seongwu glistening on his lips, and Seongwu just wants to say the same but he is terrified at the way there is the stormiest daydream, a constellation of stars swirling in Minhyun’s eyes, ragged breathing and a pink flush across his face, terrified at the knowledge that all of that was caused by Seongwu alone.

But right now he can’t think of much else as he falls apart completely under Minhyun’s mouth, like he’s falling into the goddamn abyss and it shakes him to the core. Being with Minhyun in this manner is like trying to outrun a loaded gun, a danger that would be completely unforgiving but somehow, impossibly, Seongwu enjoys every single moment.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” Minhyun hand is now back on Seongwu’s cock, as he lazily milks through the last of Seongwu’s shuddering orgasm. He can barely bring himself to think, let alone speak, but through the fog that enshrouds his brain, he slowly comes to the realization that Minhyun is still hard, a constant in always putting Seongwu before himself.

Seongwu hears himself make a noise of protest as he sits back up. He allows his fingers to lightly dust over Minhyun’s own waistband, but Minhyun nudges his hands away as he shakes his head, saying, “It’s fine. We’re probably pushing it being out here like this.” Seongwu remembers where they are and grimaces at the situation, and at the state of his uniform top when he looks over at it. Minhyun continues with a slow smile as he says, “Gonna have to make a run for it. I’m not giving you mine.”  

Seongwu doesn’t laugh back. He drags his hand along Minhyun’s cheek instead. Even though there is so much that Seongwu wants to say, he doesn’t know how to begin. His thumb brushes over the soft skin. “Before, you said that you’re always there for me,” Seongwu starts, almost struggling with the words. “I don’t think I can’t promise you that, but will you let me try to be there for you right now?”  

“Of course.” Minhyun leans over to press their foreheads together. “What do you want?” The words feel deeper than the simplicity that Minhyun’s short sentence poses.

“I— ” It’s not a hard question but somehow Seongwu can’t answer.

And so instead of words, Seongwu gently grabs Minhyun’s hand, to interlace their fingers together. It feels more intimate than anything else they’ve ever done. He’s desperate to learn every single line on his palm despite the fear.

Hand in hand, he leads Minhyun back to the dorm rooms, to his empty room, luckily encountering no one in their path. They peel off the rest of the clothes they have on. Seongwu just absentmindedly throws his soiled top onto the ground, and groans in laughter when Minhyun growls at him. “You have better things to think about right now.”

He litters soft kisses along the line of Minhyun’s jaw, his favorite, before moving to claim Minhyun’s mouth. Minhyun lets him kiss him again and again, and kisses him back in return. Seongwu walks the other male backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and they fall onto it in another heap, this time Seongwu on top. The bed is narrow, they’ll have to get creative, but close is always good.   

Seongwu lets out another shaky breath as he lets his hands roam over Minhyun’s body, thinking back to the way to how affected Minhyun was before, and he wonders if he can make the other male feel even more. He rubs his nose against the hollow of Minhyun’s throat, placing more kisses over the soft skin there and moves his hand down to palm Minhyun’s growing erection.

A needy, quiet sound escapes from the other man when Seongwu drags a nail over the slit of his cock. He is charmed by the way he can make Minhyun writhe under his touch, and the way his skin flushes pink, from his chest to his ears. But it’s the way that Minhyun gasps hotly under his mouth, to see him so undone that makes Seongwu feel a stab of longing, an ache so deep.

Before Minhyun tips over the edge, he slows his movements to a brutalizing crawl and enjoys the way the other male nips his neck in frustration. “Patience, you said.” Seongwu reaches over to dig into his drawer. He pulls out the bottle of lube and a condom and moves to rearrange their positions so they aren’t so tangled on the small space. Pouring the liquid out, he coats his fingers liberally and goes to circle his own rim, pressing a finger in, then two.

It’s not long before he’s prepared enough to finger fuck his own self, the same way he’s done several times before in the quiet of the dorm, under the covers with Minhyun branded on his mind. Tonight, he’s especially emboldened by the liquid desire in Minhyun’s eyes as he clearly enjoys the show. The tension coils further inside of him and Seongwu sighs into Minhyun’s mouth when the other male takes over, guiding his hands away. Minhyun’s slender fingers slides in deep, and it’s ferocious timing, the way he presses against Seongwu’s prostate relentlessly.

“Fuck, I can’t take anymore— Hyun-ah, please— please—”

Minhyun immediately chases his lips again, and simultaneously replaces his fingers with his cock in one swift motion. The way the tight, jerking strokes from where Minhyun glides in and out feel like heaven, a friction that Seongwu can’t get enough of. It’s almost frenzied, but there is still a measured control to it; he expects no less. But as that thought crosses his mind, Minhyun quickens his pace to an almost desperation, and Seongwu thinks, he thinks he won’t ever breathe again. All the air pulls from his lungs as the threatening heat begin to overwhelm him.

If Seongwu is a white hot star, then Minhyun must be the unrelenting, stubborn sun. A steady blaze that just consumes, consumes, consumes.

Seongwu feels like he is going to burned alive from being too close, he feels all the raw fire and passion from the other man, an inextinguishable and irresistible supernova of rising emotion. But despite all the risks, the sun is completely and utterly beautiful to him and Seongwu just wants to surrender whole-heartedly in the only way he knows how.  

It’s Minhyun who shines brightly, brighter than the city lights that paint against the dark sky on nights they find themselves up on the peak of Mt Buphwa, having completed a long fitness run together, clearing off the steam accumulated from the day.

It’s Minhyun who is like the sun that unfailingly always rises, a guide of light. The one that quietly takes notes on days where he is running late or misses class and slips it to him without fanfare or fuss, knowing that Seongwu wouldn’t accept them otherwise.

It’s Minhyun who threatens to incinerate almost all of Seongwu’s rigid barriers until nothing stands in between them anymore, his defences wearing down.

Seongwu revels in not just the overarching feelings of pleasure, but even more than that, what drives it and the crashing waves of memories and intimacy that isn’t necessarily classed as physical, thunder through him.

It’s also Minhyun’s voice he hears and completely embraces as he races through the tunnel of never-ending pleasure. It’s Minhyun’s voice that is raspy and utterly wrecked sounding with his name _Seongwu, Seongwu, Seongwu_ spilling forth like a thousand promises.

 

 

 

Seongwu wakes up the next morning to the warmth of the spilling sunlight that line their bodies. Minhyun is half-sprawled over his chest, face relaxed, still fast asleep. Minhyun’s hair is mussed and there is a delicacy to his features that Seongwu’s eyes can’t stop tracing over.

Deep inside him, a gear clicks into place emphasizing a continual churning that never wants to ever end. Seongwu thinks, he thinks this is something that he could really get used to— Minhyun is someone he can get used to, and he allows himself in that one tiny moment to entertain the idea of the possibility of love.

However, the moment he does, his heart almost immediately wants to shut down.

Minhyun’s leg tangles with his own as he shifts, burying his head further into the crook of Seongwu’s shoulder. Warm lips press onto his own warm skin as Minhyun stirs. He raises his head and looks at him with that same fondness from the night before, though with mild sleepy dishevelment and Seongwu honestly doesn’t know what he has done to deserve this, to deserve him.

“Don’t,” Minhyun chides softly as he lays another kiss directly over the area above Seongwu’s heart. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“I can’t help it,” Seongwu protests weakly, almost getting distracted at the way Minhyun’s limbs twine tighter against him. He falls back into his easy security blanket and just continues, “If you know your correct anatomy, you’ll know that’s what a brain is for.”

“Smart ass.” Minhyun’s smile is affectionate and playful as he shifts again, light hands dancing over Seongwu’s thighs. Seongwu moans, and answers Minhyun with a kiss. It’s intimate, gentle and full of hope. But there’s still a hint of darkness as well, a darkness that constantly threatens to overwhelm him. Seongwu slowly pulls away away several moments to brush a hand over Minhyun’s hair, running through it to cup the base of his skull.

Seongwu doesn’t know what prompts him but the words escape him regardless, “You asked me earlier what I wanted and I couldn’t answer.” His fingers tightens. “I still don’t know what I want.” He feels like he’s falling down that same endless chasm, even though he’s not moving at all.

All Minhyun says is, “It’s okay, take all the time you need.” Minhyun kisses him, undemanding and with as much love as Seongwu has ever allowed himself to feel since that one day in November, and Seongwu allows himself to kiss back.  

That’s the only concrete thing Seongwu can provide Minhyun. He can’t promise forever, can’t promise that he’ll always be there, but right now, this is all he has.

 

 

 

They are getting ready for the day, when Minhyun mentions, “Do you have time today to finally come hang out with me and my friends—” He pulls his sweater over his head, muffling the words. “ I’ve told them a lot about you and they’ve been pestering me to get you to come. We’re going to bring some of the younger kids to the arcade.” Minhyun continues to work at the orphanage occasionally and talks a lot about the other children he grew up with.

Seongwu pulls his own jeans up, and threads his belt into the loops when he replies, “Maybe. I’ve got work and then I’m going to meet a friend of my own, he’s finished his internship so we finally have time to meet up.” He silently thinks, he also has a meeting with one of the families who has just recently lost their own child, and he told the mother that he’d help them out as much as he could. “It depends on what time we finish, but message me?”

Minhyun comes over to wrap his hands around Seongwu’s waist, locking at the small of his back. He peers at him, asking, “Who is this friend?” His words are pouting and coy as though trying to suppress any jealousy but failing. “You’ve know him for years? I thought I was your first friend.” Seongwu lets himself relax to laugh before leaning down to place his lips on to Minhyun’s in assurance.

“His name is Jonghyun, and he’s a medical student that I met a few years ago. You’ll like him.” Seongwu muses, actually he knows they’ll get along smashingly. But then he gets reminded that Minhyun meeting Jonghyun means everything will change. “Maybe one day, I’ll let you meet him. Though you might be too full on for him. He’s just a little lamb.”

“And what, you think I’m a wolf that’s going to eat him?” Minhyun asks with a teasing note.

Seongwu lets himself chuckle, “Hmm, I don’t know.” He first points at his neck to which he knows there’s probably already the formation of a colored bruising and then holds out an arm and says, “See here? There’s a chunk missing already from your constant attacks.” He laughs again. “You said you weren’t gonna bite me where we first met, you liar.” Minhyun just drapes himself closer all over him.

“Well, you can’t blame me if you taste so good.” Minhyun leans down to lick a strip down the proffered arm causing Seongwu to exclaim in surprise at the offending dampness.

“You are so disgusting.”

“You love it.”

 

(Later on the subway, Seongwu continues to ignore how easy it always is with Minhyun, almost too easy and that overwhelming feeling of guilt that continually blinks its presence.)

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Time eases past as the surrounding environment slowly turn gold, red and brown. The gingko trees that line the lanes of their campus start to shed their yellow leaves, encasing the path in softness.

Seongwu cuts through the swathe of leaves as he makes his way back to the dorm rooms, the light of the slowly setting sun bracketing behind him. As the years have gone past, he’s never particularly been fond of the season. It’s the time when the world begins to change, _for the worst_ he thinks, giving way to a bone-chilling cold that this country is notorious for.

He doesn’t like the way it represents a transience into a world that begins to look bare, grey, and life-less.

But most of all, autumn in his eyes, marks the tragedy of losing Daniel and how nothing could ever be the same again. He’s just come back again from handing out flyers once more, this time across town in one of the smaller neighborhoods. He wasn’t able to finish handing them all out today, having been interrupted by a group of drunk men. He gets it occasionally, either that or intermittent calls at times— sometimes cruel prank calls, either leading to false news or the continued lack of faith in some people of this world.

Seongwu sighs, sometimes feeling like he’s reaching the end of his tether, and he isn’t quite sure how much more he can handle, wants to handle. But when he thinks of his brother’s face, young and childlike in his mind; the unsurmountable guilt rises once again as he thinks of how much he owes Daniel.

He wanders into the warm building, shaking the last pesky leaf that had gotten caught in his hair. Seongwu takes off his jacket, draping it across his arm, thankful for the way management has decided to give them a break and turn up the central heating a little earlier this year. He immediately goes to the small library tucked away on the third floor knowing what he’ll find there. Who he’ll find there.

Minhyun smiles immediately when he sees Seongwu troop in, taking off his glasses to place it down on the table in front of him. There’s small red indents from where it sat on the bridge of his nose, and Seongwu feels his heart slowly coming to a stop in front of him.

In the weeks of being together, there has been an extra thread of calmness that Minhyun’s presence permits him. A calmness that he hasn’t felt in a long time. But it doesn’t mean that Seongwu stops worrying, worrying that all of this will be taken away from him in a flash. There is also a heavy want in him that he can’t help, and he knows wanting and having are two different things. It’s a lesson he learned years ago.

“Work was okay?”

“Yeah, too cold though.”

Minhyun grabs his hands and blows on them gently, murmuring something about getting him gloves before Christmas. Seongwu feels the press of lips against the skin on the back of hand and his heart drops further.

Seongwu has wanted to tell Minhyun about Daniel, an urgency that has grown larger and larger pretty much ever since their first night together.

But he doesn’t know how to find the words.

He doesn’t know how to open up. He doesn’t know how to tell Minhyun that he feels like his soul is ripped apart still, that he’s been missing a part of him since he was separated from his brother. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the possibility in difference of how Minhyun might treat him. He doesn’t want to drag Minhyun into this lifelong struggle and feel more guilt pile on.

Minhyun is _his_ good thing, and he doesn’t want it tainted.

So he doesn’t.

Seongwu gathers his hand back to the safety of his own body and sits himself down next to Minhyun. He pulls out his own textbook and turns to page three hundred and forty-five, burying himself in words that are easier to be around, highlighter in hand.  

It’s not until Minhyun asks, “Do you have the criminal law leaflet that Professor Baek handed to us yesterday by any chance? I think I remember reading something on it that might help us answer this.” Seongwu is still absorbed in the incredibly interesting blocks of text in front of him when he just waves down at his bag that is sitting on the ground between them.

“Yeah? It’s somewhere in there, I think.”

He can hear Minhyun leaning over to open the flap of the leather satchel, pulling out a stack of paper to ruffle through the odds and ends, searching for the piece of paper that he’s looking for. Seongwu bites the inside of his cheek, trying to decipher the words that could almost be a foreign language to him. There is a quiet moment in which the rustling stops, and Seongwu can hear the breathing of the other man, slow and deep beside him suddenly stop.

“Found it?” Seongwu underlines a word in neon yellow. “Sorry, it might be a bit crumpled.”

There’s no answer from Minhyun, and Seongwu looks out of the corner of his eye, sidelong to see Minhyun holding one of the flyers that he had kept from before. _Oh_. Seongwu just— stares. He stares at Minhyun who stares back down at the picture.

“I—”

“Where did you get this?” Minhyun interrupts, his voice quiet and restrained. His eyes flicker up to meet Seongwu’s and for the amount of knowing looks that Minhyun has given him over the years, there is a unfamiliar hesitance in his expression right now.

The yellow highlighter lies forgotten on the open textbook when Seongwu turns his body completely to face Minhyun. There’s no one else in the library at this hour and Seongwu is grateful that he doesn’t have to whisper. But he’s so scared, to have to face the fact that he’s been so weak, so unfair over the past few years; to finally have to muster up the courage to talk about Daniel with Minhyun.

“The flyer is mine. That boy—” Seongwu’s finger moves to point at the taller one. It’s shaky as the tip of it touches against the face, “That one is me.” His finger moves a few millimetres. “And the other one is Daniel, my younger brother. He went missing almost fifteen years ago.”

Minhyun doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the moment stretches like centuries and Seongwu as always, doesn’t know what to say, what to feel. “I’m so sorry. It’s big to take on board.” Seongwu’s hand goes to encircle around Minhyun’s wrist, the same one holding the flyer. It’s delicate and he can almost feel the fluttering of his heartbeat under his palm. ”I know I should have told you sooner. I was just—”

“No,” Minhyun begins, his voice wavering, almost hoarse. His eyes lift to meet with Seongwu’s again, a light sheen to them, almost like there is wetness. “It’s okay, I don’t care about that right now.” Seongwu feels a small swirling of confusion. Minhyun continues, words slightly stilted with breaking emotion, “Daniel. Should be around twenty one this year. Separated from his brother, dad and grandmother in November, 2004.”

The storm of confusion colors Seongwu’s thoughts before Minhyun’s statement actually hits him. It hits him like a ten ton truck zooming down the highway and slams into him with massive force. “H—how do you know all of that?”

Minhyun drops the flyer, and his hands swoops in to clutch at Seongwu’s own quivering ones, steadying them, steadying him. “I know Daniel.”

In that moment a pin could drop, and Seongwu would have been able to hear it in the silence that ensues.

“I grew up with him in the orphanage. I still see him and I’ve seen his own flyers, it’s the exact same picture.” Minhyun groans, fingers tightening around Seongwu’s as he squeezes down. “I remember the day they brought him in. There had been a fall— His memory was intact, mostly, but he couldn’t remember any identifying details except his own first name. Thankfully they found this picture in his pocket.” Minhyun exhales. "We’ve grown up trying our best to look for you but we only had the barest of bones. If only I had known sooner. I should have known sooner.”

Seongwu’s tongue feels numb, like someone has just injected him with a mouthful of anaesthesia. He feels almost dissociated from his body, voice discombobulated when he hears himself say, “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t even tell you about him.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s my fault.”

There’s a fierce hushing when Minhyun just mutters, “It’s not your fault, never your fault,” against the skin from where he now has has his lips pressed onto the corner of Seongwu’s mouth.

“He’s been looking for me?” Seongwu whispers in question, afraid that this isn’t real.

“Of course he has. He’s never stopped.” There is a brushing of a thumb along his cheek where he can feel his tear being wiped away.

Seongwu can’t help the way he feels like he is still trembling in Minhyun’s comforting hold. Over the years he’s been plagued with dreams and nightmares of this exact moment, the day that someone tells him that he’s found his brother and that they will reunite again.

That un-relentless hope, that was mere cinders begin to take spark again, with Minhyun lighting the match.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

“I’m worried.” Seongwu pulls at the collar of his best shirt, frowning, wondering if he should have worn something different. He taps his foot nervously against the ground as he stares into his pitiful closet. It’s not like there’s much to pick from.

“Why are you so worried?” Minhyun laces up his own shoes from his position by the desk as he answers back, “Especially about what you're wearing? You’re not going to go get married.”  

Seongwu pulls a face, saying, “Too much?” He quickly pulls out navy blue jumper from the pile of clothes to throw over the shirt in an effort to make the outfit more casual. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Daniel.

“You’ll be lucky if Daniel even bothers to wear something that isn’t exercise gear. Honestly, the last time we met up for dinner, in an actual restaurant mind you, he was still wearing his obnoxious purple tracksuit jacket.” Seongwu struggles frantically with getting his face through the neck hole and there is a laugh from where Minhyun is probably watching him. “Seriously, don’t get so worked up. It’ll be great. You’ll be great.”

“But what if he hates me?” Seongwu asks anxiously, nervous energy thrumming through the air around them. He’s felt edgy ever since Minhyun’s revelation, especially since Daniel had been in Busan and they hadn’t been able to schedule a meet up until now.

“No one could hate you.” Minhyun comes up to him to interweave his hands with Seongwu’s, stopping them from the twisting he was doing to the bag strap he was holding. “I’ve put up with you all these years haven’t I?” Seongwu sees the cheekiness that is so Minhyun infuse into the lines of his face from where his smile stretches across.

“You implied I was an asshole when we first met,” Seongwu reminds him as he lets his head fall down to drop directly in a straight line onto Minhyun’s chest.

“Well, I can’t lie because you really were,” Minhyun replies sincerely, and Seongwu lifts his head to bite the tendon on Minhyun’s neck. He laughs as he pulls away, but only just. “But even then, I could see past all of that pretend bravado and distrust. You’ve been waiting for this day and Daniel has too. He’ll love you no matter what, regardless of what you wear. He’s going to love you, I know it.”

Seongwu leans himself back, to focus on Minhyun’s face, only centimetres away. There’s a heartbreakingly beautiful smile—a smile that is so open and so loving, one that fills up his entire face looking back at him. Seongwu wants Minhyun to look at him like that forever, and in that moment today, forever is a concept that doesn’t seem to be so impossible after all.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

It’s strange, the way that the years of separation had dissolved immediately with a glance in the eye, knowing that his brother was standing right before him. Minhyun had been right, with Daniel turning up in a simple grey hoodie, and not once caring about what Seongwu was wearing. 

The emotions had been almost overwhelming. He had thought about that very day, tried to recreate every single feasible possibility and outcome over and over in his mind. Nothing however, had been able to surpass the feeling when he finally had Daniel wrapped tightly in his arms, smoothing a hand over that very chocolate brown hair that he had seen that one day at the street stall, without knowing, having stupidly passing over the missed opportunity. He could feel the large grin against his shoulders, the warm tears staining his sweatshirt. 

Seongwu had mumbled words that he can barely even remember now, just been so happy to finally see Daniel again, for him to be corporeal and solid again right before him. 

They were a little awkward at first, after the initial hug, almost not knowing how to act around each other. However everything soon fell into place quickly enough with Daniel’s outgoing personality helping to facilitate the process of getting to know each other again. It was the same facets that he recognized from their few years spent in each other’s company. Seongwu thought, thinks, it’s strange that he’s spent years looking for Daniel, more years than he’s even known his brother but the ease of familiarity soothes his worries. 

 

 

Several weeks pass after that first initial meeting, and today, Seongwu and Daniel lie under the night sky on the shared rooftop of his family’s apartment. 

Daniel’s reunion with their grandmother and their father had followed very closely behind his own, after Seongwu and him had made the decision together to take a DNA test. The results had been a resounding positive. Despite the shared knowledge, the shared feeling deep within their bones that this time wasn’t a false lead, Daniel had insisted on taking the test prior, not wanting to place the family under further stress in case he hadn’t been the one.

The strength that Daniel continues to display time and time again, almost breaks Seongwu, whenever he thinks back to the nights that Daniel had to spend alone, far away from his family. However the feeling always disperses fast because Daniel just chuckles, saying things like, _Why are you looking so sad again, Seongwu-hyung? Don’t worry, I had Minhyun-hyung, I had plenty of people around me. And now I have you back._

It is the same again tonight, when Seongwu can’t seem to shake off the feeling that this is all going to go away. That it’s just a dream that is slowly going to turn into a nightmare. His limbs grow restless, but he forces himself to stop thinking.

The stars are bright in the night sky overhead, distant but brilliant.

Seongwu reaches out his arm almost as though to try to grab one, fingers tightening against nothing and Daniel laughs at his action. 

Seongwu just says, “Just like life isn’t it?”

The two brothers lie side by side on the raised wooden platform that sits in the center of the rooftop, next to the laundry line that their family and the two neighbors all equally share. There are potted plants lining all around them and the air is calm. 

Scattered around them are countless of books, one is Seongwu’s criminal investigation textbook since he has a test tomorrow but the rest are mostly Daniel’s. His magazines about motorbikes and his manga books. Seongwu is messy but he doesn’t compare at all to his brother. Minhyun would have a fit. Probably has already tried to get him to clean up his act.

“So, you’re planning to buy a motorbike?” Seongwu can’t help the concern seep into his voice, in the most brotherly of fashions. He’s tried not to be smothering every time he hears about Daniel’s new antics, but it’s hard not to be when the other male has a voracious appetite for life and wants to try every single thing under the sun. 

Minhyun had been a little more forgiving, used to Daniel’s ways, just mouthing into the skin covering Seongwu’s shoulder that he should let Daniel live a little. Seongwu had gotten distracted immediately, by the wicked way that Minhyun had begun to trail a line of kisses down his body, and the topic had been discarded. Until now. 

“Yeah.” There’s a childish enthusiasm in Daniel’s eyes as he smiles, probably at the thought of his dream bike and Seongwu can’t help but be affected by it despite his reluctance around the topic. “You should have seen it, sitting in the window of the shop, it just _called_ to me.” He goes on to recount the technical details of the bike like a commercial, and almost speaking of it in reverent tones.

Seongwu laughs when he looks at the selfie that Daniel took with it, feeling his resistance dissolve a little. _Cute._ He says, “Okay, how about we go by the store and you can show it to me before you buy it. I promise I won’t make any further judgements until then.” 

A toothy smile beams back at him, as Daniel holds out his pinky finger. Seongwu hooks his own pinky around it as they press thumbs.

“It’s a promise.”

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Seongwu is unfortunately too weak to say no, when he goes with Daniel to the store some time later. The shiny, chrome bike feels smooth as he glides his hand over it, listening to Daniel chatter away to the shop owner about the specifications even if he has gone over it tens of times over. Daniel’s facial expression belies a huge amount of happiness that Seongwu just can’t take away, a happiness only second to when they had reunited. 

And so he finds himself on the back of the bike twenty minutes later, as Daniel flies through the roads of Seoul, going for the first ride of his life. It’s nerve-wracking, but somewhat thrilling all at the same time. He still doesn't like it though.

They get off in front of the apartment when the motorbike skids to a stop. Seongwu peels off his helmet and watches Daniel do the same, the cool winds weaving its way through their hair. 

“That was so,” Daniel breathes as he balances his helmet on the seat between them, “cool. To think I own my own bike now, finally.”

Seongwu frowns, and launches into the spiel he had thought up in the space of the ride back, “It was fun, yes, but make sure to always wear your helmet, and please for the love of god, go and buy some protective gear to wear. I don’t want to get a call from the hospital.” 

Daniel just smiles, a constant. “Yes sir.” He places his hand in a straight line by his eyebrow in a salute.

“Are you mocking me?” Seongwu growls as he advances on his brother. 

“No!” Daniel squirms away as he giggles loudly, trying to fend off the tickling fingers Seongwu is attempting to inflict on him. “I would never. But I think Minhyun-hyung is rubbing too much off on you, you almost sound just as dad like as he does.” Daniel sticks out his tongue, and Seongwu is almost transported to a time from memories past. 

He ignores the upheaval of feelings and just returns Daniel’s smile, saying, “Brat.” 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

Seongwu begins his fourth and last year at KNPU with a new resolve to try to live his last two semesters like an average human being that has everything he needs finally within his grasp.

Seongwu jokes with Minhyun that he’ll finally have the chance to usurp Minhyun’s number one ranking since he doesn’t have anything else to distract him. 

(Minhyun laughs and says, you can try, and flips him over in another damning win in their sparring contest and pins him to the floor in another lingering kiss that ends with Seongwu pushing him up against the wall of the shower stall, complete with muffled sobs and weak legs). 

Though he still works part time occasionally, his dad has also finally chosen to make the conscious effort to begin to work through his own problems, something that has been a long time coming. 

Having lost Daniel after losing his wife years before had been a double blow, and his dad had confessed to him that he couldn’t see that by doing what he was doing he was pushing away the people still in his life instead. Seongwu had sat there listening to his dad’s words, ignoring the awful feeling in his own gut, and quietly accepted the apology. It’s a constant work in progress, but both him and Daniel accompany him to his alcohol rehab sessions, and the community centre to begin looking for a suitable job.

The tension he’s felt for years begin to dissolve easily when he sees Daniel lovingly place a kiss on their frail grandmother’s forehead, making her laugh in a way that Seongwu hasn’t been able to all these years. It dissolves when he sees four chairs around the dining table instead of just the one set of chopsticks for himself. When he sees Daniel kicks his football repeatedly on a single knee and yells at him to hurry and come play with him. When they have samgyupsal out on the rooftop and Seongwu gets a lettuce wrap thoughtfully shoved in his mouth.

The burdens begin to slowly melt off his shoulders in the times he spends with Minhyun; when they lie on the grass under the vast sky, staring at the endless expanse of clouds with seemingly no urgency. When Minhyun comes to him after an especially bad day on his part and Seongwu just opens his arms to welcome him. When they teasingly play footsie under the table and Sanggyun irritatedly tells them to get a room. (He has enough to deal with, with Dongho and Kyulkyung already.)

It continues to fall away when he regularly hangs out with the other boys that Minhyun and Daniel grew up with when he can, finding that he too has a lot in common with them. From the way he can easily chat to Jaehwan about their favorite songs, or to Woojin about how their favorite football team is currently doing, or even to Guan Lin about the great wide world, and their hopes to travel and explore it one day.

Seongwu begins to feel like the past is slowly becoming that, the past.

 

 

Tonight they are all on the same rooftop, the one that has begun to hold so many good memories instead.

Seongwu sits to the side with Minhyun away from the background raucous as they stare out into the darkness of the sky once more. There is a pink flush on the other male’s face, this time Seongwu knows it’s caused by the sheer amount of happiness that is currently rolling through him as well. 

The boys had surprised them with a cake from the nearby Baskin Robbins saying it was to celebrate both their last semester at university and for their birthdays since all the dates were not too far off from one another. 

(“One cake between the both of us? Cheapskates,” Seongwu teases with a grin and gets a good amount of jeering and a swipe of whipped cream down his cheek as Jaehwan maniacally laughs in his ear. Seongwu wraps his right arm around Minhyun who is standing tight by his side, and the other male does the same with his left. They glance into each other’s eyes, silent wishes, before they turn back to blow the two candles out.)

“Can you believe it? Only one more semester before we’re done,” Seongwu says with glee before covering his face with his hands as if it will dampen the overwhelming amount of emotion he feels. He says into his palms, almost to himself, wonderingly, “Fully fledged police officers.” 

“I’m not sure I’ll trust you with a gun,” Minhyun teases back playfully, though when Seongwu takes a peek through his split fingers, he sees that same fondness reflected back at him. 

“Whatever, I’m a great shot. Remember target practice when I kicked your ass last week? Think you might have to get glasses grandpa.”

“We’re only sixteen days apart in age,” comes Minhyun’s deadpan answer. “If anything, you’re the one always cramping up and lacking in stamina so who’s the old one now?” 

Seongwu gasps, “How dare you come for my weaknesses like that! I’ll show you who has endurance.” He leans forward to capture Minhyun’s mouth, pulling the bottom lip into his own, nipping it causing Minhyun to moan slightly at the pinprick of pain. He kisses Minhyun with a vengeance.

However he doesn’t get much of a chance to exact the punishment he wants to inflict because they get interrupted quickly enough when a crushed plastic cup gets tossed their way, smacking Seongwu in the side of his face. They break apart, embarrassed, to see nine pairs of eyes swivelled their way, and Daehwi yelling, “Gross, spare our young unblemished eyes please.” 

Jinyoung nods in agreement, shuddering as he says, “It’s like watching our dads make out.” 

Jisung and Sungwoon, the oldest of the lot just smirk and Sungwoon says, “Take it inside you heathens.” 

Seongwu scratches the back of his neck as he feels his ears redden. He doesn’t even need to look over at Minhyun to know there’s a mirroring, and just slides his arm around the other’s waist in a show of support. He pushes his mortification aside though and strokes Minhyun on his thigh with a fake show of leering as he says lightly, “Couldn’t help myself. It is my birthday after all.” 

He gets numerous disgusted expressions, another round of jeering, and a dash of blush across his boyfriend’s face. Daniel shakes his head, but there’s the widest grin on his face as he turns back to finish his conversation with Jihoon. 

They get left alone again now, and Minhyun grabs Seongwu’s hand that still rests over his thigh. Their fingers intertwine together as Minhyun tells him with the utmost faith shining in his eye, “I can’t wait to graduate together. I can’t wait for our dreams to finally come true.” 

The words fall irrevocably from Minhyun’s mouth to Seongwu’s ears and the amount of hope it casts leaves a thumping fist to remain just below Seongwu’s sternum, and a tightness across his ribs that he can’t get rid of. 

All he can say to Minhyun is, “You utter sap.” 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Despite having been reunited with his brother, Seongwu still goes by the Association of Missing Children to help out as much as he can. It’s not fair that so many families in South Korea, in the world still haven’t been as lucky as he had, to find their loved one. He goes to help give a small bit of hope to those still looking, to remind them that there always is hope. 

He finds himself just before his final semester ends, loitering around after his last meeting, waiting. 

“Jonghyun,” Seongwu says as he sees the other man in question stroll into the room. “It’s good to see you again finally.” 

“And yourself; you are looking far happier than the last time I saw you,” Jonghyun says as he crosses over the scratched up wooden floor to pull out a chair. They haven’t met since before Seongwu found Daniel as Jonghyun has been out of the country for an exchange programme. “Sorry, I haven’t been able to get in touch properly lately, saving lives and all that.” They share a grin before Jonghyun grabs Seongwu’s hand that was laying on the table as he excitedly continues, “I just want to say again how happy I am for you and your brother.” 

“Of course and thanks,” Seongwu replies as he squeezes his friend’s hand back as a show of sincere appreciation. “Thanks for everything that you did.” 

Jonghyun blinks, and says, “But I didn’t really do anything. I didn’t find Daniel.”

“Jonghyun, you really need to take far more credit for yourself; for your help. Regardless even if you didn’t find Daniel in particular, you were there with me all through the way. And so, I want to thank you for that.”

The smile he gets in return is quiet but brilliant. “Can I meet Daniel one of these days?” 

Seongwu laughs as he withdraws his hand back to dip into his pocket in order to retrieve his phone. He pulls it out and scrolls through the picture gallery, landing on the one he wants. “I don’t know if you were around when he did, but he actually came here, looking for me with his flyer.” 

A look of shock flashes across Jonghyun’s features, before it settles on horror. “Oh god, how did we miss that? The flyers must have been sitting up on the same notice board.” The frown lines deepen on his forehead, “See, this is why you shouldn’t be thanking me at all. I feel terrible.” 

“Don’t feel guilty,” Seongwu offers easily, even though that same nagging voice tells him that he should listen to his own advice sometimes. “It’s not your fault at all, plus it’s over now.” 

Seongwu slowly flips through the remaining pictures that he has, showing Jonghyun the selfies that him and Daniel had taken together, and the ones of just Daniel. They laugh together over the one where Daniel is posing in the spiderman outfit that he procured from god knows where out in the middle of a big crowd in Apgujeong. That particular day had been quite eventful. 

“I like him already.” 

“Me too, he’s just like a kid in a man’s body.” Seongwu laughs. “I’ll try to get him in here during your next shift, or we could maybe meet for coffee sometime next week?” 

“I would love that.” Jonghyun nods again, drumming his fingers along the surface of the table. “Actually I’m going to visit my family for a fortnight in Gangwando, so sometime after that would probably work out perfectly. Just text me once you know your schedule.” 

“No worries, Daniel has been a little busy lately so I’ll run it past him. He’s been working at a boxing gym, mostly cleaning really, but he’s now got the glorified idea to pick up the sport too, thinking that he can be some sort of champion boxer one day.” Seongwu wrinkles his nose and says, “First the motorbike, and now boxing. What am I gonna do with him?” 

Jonghyun smiles ruefully back at him, “Well, hopefully you won’t need to, but if he ever needs, you’ll be able to send him to me next time. I’ll fix him up for you.”

Seongwu shudders, at the thought of Daniel ever needing to go to the hospital; his last threat had just been that, a threat. He says, “I hope not but that always works.” 

Seongwu returns to swipe through the last of the pictures from the past couple of days they had spent together, Daniel insisting on Seongwu to capture him and the stray cat he had found in the alleyway they had walked past. 

(“Don’t get too close! It might have rabies.” “Chill hyung, look at it, it’s so tiny and sad. Can I take it home?” “Uh. I don’t think so. Gran is allergic.” “Oh, I forgot. But look, it’s shivering! It’s so cold right now, we can’t leave it here!” Seongwu frowns, trying to ignore Daniel’s pouting expression but relents as always. “Fine. I guess let’s bring it to the nearby vet.” “You’re the best hyung I have.” “I’m your only brother.” “Like I said, the best.”) 

He flicks past one too many, and it lands on a photograph of Minhyun, one amongst the funny pictures of Daniel, and the pages of chapter seventeen in the criminal sociology textbook that he had just taken from the library, too cheap to buy. It’s the one where it’s just a close up of Minhyun’s face, and the frame is wide enough to see the finger heart he throws up. Seongwu remembers the day he woke up to the picture, with no message to go with it, just that, and he immediately saved it, in his phone and in his own heart.

Before he can go past it, Jonghyun singles it out, whistling loudly, “Who’s that? He’s cute.” 

Seongwu thumbs out of the gallery and he can’t help the quick statement that blurts out, “He’s mine.” He immediately feels his cheeks flush. He coughs. “I mean, we’re dating, I guess.” Technically him and Minhyun have been dating for over a year now, but every time he thinks about the way Minhyun wants to make it more substantial, more permanent, he feels himself pull away slightly. So the way the innate reaction tears out from so quickly, makes him jerk in surprise as he feels the resulting shard in his chest.

“Down, boy, I've got my own.” Jonghyun chortles as he leans back in his chair, peering at him with curious eyes. “And, I’m just stating a fact. Will you be too possessive to allow me to meet him too?”

Seongwu sniffs in reply, before finally answering, “Actually, I did tell him about you before, and he wanted to meet you too so I guess—” he sighs painstakingly, “I guess we can if you insist.”

Jonghyun hits him playfully on the arm before and chides him, “After all these years Ong Seongwu, and you’re still trying to withhold things in your life.” The words, and the gentle connection despite not hurting physically at all, leaves a painful lingering mark underneath the skin.

 

 

 


	3. always

 

 

 

Jonghyun's words come back to haunt him.

Seongwu doesn’t mean to. 

He doesn’t mean to withhold Daniel, or Minhyun, he doesn’t mean to withhold himself, but in the following week just before exams, in one blink of an eye, everything changes. The fears that he’s held close to him, the guilt that he wouldn’t let anyone absolve from him; the entire world he’s carefully constructed for himself— it all comes tumbling down, burying him in it. 

He knew it. That happiness would never last.

He just didn’t think it would come so soon.

He had gone out, to meet up with Daniel after his brother was due to finish at his convenience store job. Minhyun had police field duty training and jokingly told them not to get into too much trouble without him. They were supposed to then drop by to play a couple of games of billiards with the others. Simple, easy, fun. Unfortunately it never happened.

He had gone off to buy ice creams for the rest of the group, knowing that Jaehwan particularly favored the watermelon popsicle and Jinyoung liked the plain chocolate ones. He had told Daniel to go ahead first since the store was only around the corner from the games room and he’ll catch up soon.

He had come back to a mess instead, unconscious bodies lay strewn over the ground from where a fight had taken place. Whose fault it was, he didn’t know. Jihoon’s eyes were glazed over and he was huddled on the floor, clutching his obviously broken arm in shock. Daniel was hovering concernedly over the other male, bruise already forming on his cheekbone. 

He had immediately felt the way his skin had started crawling, the heavy ball in the bottom of his stomach, and the way his mouth immediately tasted the bitterness he’d desperately tried to forget about. 

He had quickly prodded at them for answers, what the hell had happened, and Jihoon just looked on with shame in his eyes, and Daniel clinging to his arm, red on his face. Jisung with a rapidly increasing egg on his cheekbone had then whispered urgent words into Seongwu’s ear.

He had made the decision in the following moment, in between one heartbeat and the next, gritting out to Daniel, “Go take Jihoon to the hospital, you guys can’t afford to have this on your record. I’ll do it, I’ll deal with it.” 

“But hyung—” 

“Just go!”

Seongwu’s ice cream, lay forgotten, melting into a puddle on the dirty gravel road as police sirens pierce through the night. 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

The makeshift cell Seongwu is currently being held in at the local precinct is less frigid than he thought it would be. It’s surprisingly warm instead from the nearby heater but Seongwu still can’t stop the way his fingers are trembling. 

A maelstrom of thoughts swirl through him right now, all the possibilities. 

It shouldn’t be too bad, he’ll just explain the situation and it’ll be fine, right? 

Over the years, Seongwu has never thought he’d find himself on this side of the bars instead. He thinks back to the first motorbike ride that Daniel had taken him on, and he understands now the very appeal— the feeling of freedom and the sound of the wind in his ears. However all he can feel right now is the imprint of where the steel handcuffs had cut into his skin instead, a ball and chain instead. 

He spends the next few hours alone, locked in his own mind, slowly feeling the remnants of his future slide like water through his fingers.

 

 

 

“Minhyun,” Seongwu breathes out when is faced with the other male who stands before him. He follows it with a deep inhalation. He doesn’t want Minhyun to be here, to see him in this state, but at the same time, he quickly stands up to go closer, to place a hand on the glass window of the visitors box, as if to reach out to Minhyun, because that’s all he can do. 

But it’s not enough, never enough. 

There’s something in Minhyun’s eyes when he looks into them; there’s concern, there’s that nagging intent that is so familiar, but there’s also fear and Seongwu doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.

The detective who had arrested him walks over to the pair from where he had been absorbed typing out the details of the case, ignoring Seongwu for the past several hours. 

“You know him?” The detective questions Minhyun disparagingly, eyes reproving at the idea the institution’s name would be tarnished as he takes in Minhyun’s dress uniform.

Minhyun’s voice is solemn when he replies, “Yes sir. We’re both students at KNPU.” The detective does a short double take, flicking his eyes back over to Seongwu who looks at them through barricades that fill his vision. 

“Well not anymore he won’t, he’ll be expelled for sure after this.” Seongwu blanches when the words kick into his face. “You’d be good not to hang around with thugs like him,” the detective spews out with cold vehemence. Seongwu makes a noise of protest, he hasn’t even done anything. He’s been trying to get the detective to listen to his version of the story (not that he really knows that much) but he’s been shut cold. 

Minhyun shakes his head, a gesture in telling him to be quiet, to not make things worse. “There must be some mistake,” Minhyun urges as he faces the detective, body held rigid. “Seongwu— Seongwu isn’t that kind of person. I’ve known him for years and he’s a good person. I’m here to vouch for him.” 

“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do. We arrested him after he had physically assaulted several other men. One of them has even been transported to hospital,” the detective tells Minhyun shortly, and the underlying unsaid words are both understood by the two of them. 

A single moment, a single decision. 

Seongwu said he’d take the fall for the boys, for Daniel, and here he was, finally realizing how much he would give up for his brother. 

The detective pulls Minhyun aside and says something to him, something that Seongwu can’t hear, before walking away. 

Minhyun stares at him with that same unfathomable expression and Seongwu immediately wishes he never started any of this. 

“It’s serious, Seongwu-ah. He said they’re going to hold you overnight and a court hearing will be set once the judge receives the case,” Minhyun tells him, words distorted through the the thick panel. 

Seongwu smiles, he smiles, despite everything crashing down around him. He smiles though it doesn’t completely reach his eyes as he replies, “At least Daniel and the others are okay right?”

Minhyun nods, face strained. “He rang me, that's why I'm here. I had to beg them to let me out of training." He looks stunned, almost confused. "They’re all at the hospital right now sorting out Jihoon. Don’t worry, they’ll come as soon as they can to give their own statements.” 

“No!” Seongwu bursts out, hand hitting the panel, a loud thud. “That will defeat the entire purpose of me being here.” 

“Calm down, or else we’re ending this,” comes the warning note from the guard standing beside him. Seongwu breathes heavily, trying to control his temper.

“Seongwu—,” Minhyun implores, eyes searching as he places his own hand against Seongwu’s, the only thing separating them is the cold barrier that has always been there. “You can’t do this alone.”

The same words constantly replay in his mind over and over, through the years.

But, Seongwu knows some things just can’t be changed so easily, no matter how much he wants it to happen.

Seongwu’s palm tightens into a fist against the glass window feeling the acid wear a hole in his stomach as he feels the engulfing separation when Minhyun removes his hand away, telling him that he’ll be back. 

 

(They don’t allow him any further visitors after that, and Seongwu is secretly thankful.) 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Within days, winter runs headlong into spring, but Seongwu still feels the overwhelming bitterness of the cold. 

 

Arrest.

Suspension. 

Court hearing.

Expulsion.

Jail. 

 

Seongwu is only on number two but again, he’s run through all the possibilities. He’s used to it, thinking about what could be, what could have been. For the past fortnight, he’s been thinking and thinking and thinking, just waiting for his court date, stewing. His grandmother stares sadly at him, and Seongwu just turns over to face the wall instead, again away from the pitying eyes that he so despises. 

He’s refused anyone over, unwilling to face the reality of the situation. Unwilling to continue to listen to the apologies that keep erupting from the boys’ mouths. He reassures them over and over that it’s fine, even if it’s not. Despite the consequences, Seongwu doesn’t want to take back what he did. He did it for Daniel, and if he can continue to protect him, he’ll do anything. He’s lost him once, and he won’t lose him again. 

The police allow him to be released on bail, on the condition that he turns up for the court hearing that will be scheduled soon. 

The day his future will be decided.

Minhyun had come round once when he had finally been released from field training duty, the only person he had allowed. Minhyun hadn’t yelled, shouted, or screamed at him but the quiet fury he’s rarely come to witness over the past four taking place in front of him was far worse. 

It was in that moment, that Seongwu saw _his_ Minhyun, the one that sported a pink nose and chapped lips, bundled up in a thick winter coat. He saw _his_ Minhyun, the one who would laugh at his jokes without qualms, so giving in all of his affections. He saw _his_ Minhyun, whose hip bones fit so perfectly in his hands when he accepted everything Seongwu had deigned to give him. 

And it was in that moment that Seongwu realized Minhyun couldn’t be his after all, something he had known right from the beginning. 

“Daniel paid off your bail, did you know?” Minhyun asks bluntly. No, he didn’t know. No wonder Daniel has been gone for long periods again, probably working more shifts at FamilyMart. He hadn’t wanted to talk to Daniel about this situation any more; didn’t want to see the guilty eyes that reflected back on his own. “He refused to take any money from me.” 

Seongwu continues to sit there huddled, knees drawn to his chest. He wants everything to go away, for that shortlived happiness to come back again. “He knows you don’t like taking money from your parents.” 

“I would have done it for you.” 

 

(And there it was, the reason why Seongwu wouldn’t have wanted to place this on Minhyun. why he doesn’t want to continue any of this.)

 

Expulsion.

Jail. 

Expulsion. 

Jail. 

Minhyun. 

Minhyun.

Minhyun.

 

The words repeat in his mind and he can’t focus on anything else. 

“How could you be so stupid— After all that we’ve been through,” Minhyun mutters incredulously as he finally gets a chance to speak his mind and vent about the damning actuality of the situation. He wears a hole in the apartment floor, that same pair of shoes encasing his feet. “We were supposed to graduate together. You were supposed to be wearing this with me.” He plucks at the fabric of his new uniform and Seongwu wants to close his eyes. 

So he does, in an attempt to block out everything but he just feels worse. 

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same,” Seongwu whispers, his voice all but a faint current in the air.

“Maybe, but—" Minhyun begins, "—this guilt that you’ve been carrying over Daniel—” Minhyun combs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You don’t owe him. You don’t owe him anything, especially not to throw your dream away for him.” 

“You don’t understand.” Seongwu stares blindly into the space to the left of Minhyun. His gaze focuses on the family picture situated on the side table, the one of his dad hugging them both as young boys. There’s another frame next to it— Minhyun and him in their police uniforms surrounded by their friends. It goes blurry. “It was never my dream.” 

The silence that ensues makes Seongwu want to stop time, to wish that the next second never comes. 

“You’ve never allowed me understand,” Minhyun says quietly, a restrained resentment apparent. “I told you before that it didn’t matter that you didn’t tell me about Daniel, and in that moment it didn’t because I was so happy for both of you. But— it does. I thought I could get over it but you essentially kept the biggest secret that you had to yourself.” 

Seongwu didn’t realize how much it had affected Minhyun, would affect him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose—” Seongwu shrinks back. Both figuratively and physically. He tries to explain, words catching, “I didn’t want you to have to deal with all my problems.” 

“But that’s the thing, it’s not just that. You said you trusted in me, but—” Minhyun pauses, back as ramrod straight as the first day who had been so different to the Minhyun he has gotten to know. “You don’t. You never did.” He stares up at the ceiling, eyes blinking rapidly in anger or in despair, Seongwu can’t tell.

“Minhyun.” Seongwu doesn’t know if it’s a desperate prayer, or a goodbye on his lips. 

“I’m just— I’m just gonna go,” Minhyun exhales out, turning slowly to step out of the apartment. “I need some time to think. Call me later once you get it through your thick skull that this isn’t your fault.” 

In the space between the two long beats that pass when he’s left all alone in the empty living room, Seongwu makes up his mind again. 

He takes quick strides to catch up with Minhyun who is already halfway down the road.

“Minhyun, wait.” His voice cracks.

Minhyun halts in his tracks and turns again to face him, almost afraid of what he’s going to say. They stand there, the only two people in the peaceful neighborhood.

“I’m not going to call,” Seongwu says with finality, “Because I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” He can almost see Minhyun’s imperceptible shiver, though whether it is from Seongwu’s words or the cool spring breeze that blows behind them, he’s unsure.

Seongwu wants to look away, wants to look at anything but Minhyun’s eyes, Minhyun’s face, Minhyun’s everything who looks so unbelievably handsome in his uniform, the uniform that Seongwu might never get to wear. It’s a throwback to the day he first saw Minhyun long before Minhyun ever saw him. They are still worlds apart, and nothing’s changed. 

He wants to look at anything other than Minhyun, the one person that has always been there for him.

But Seongwu does, he does because the other male deserves that at the very least. He does, and his heart immediately shatters. 

Minhyun’s face is filled with the same expression, the one that cuts through his entire being, the one that made him look away immediately the first time they had encountered each other because he knew that he was going to be burnt. 

But this time, when Seongwu keeps his eyes focused on Minhyun’s, he sees the way that the other male’s pupils flicker, the only betrayal of emotion. 

“You’re breaking up with me.” It’s not a question, but a statement that comes out of Minhyun’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Seongwu says with effort as his hand curls up into a ball by his side. He moves it to hide behind his back. He moves it to hide the way that it shakes. “I’m breaking up with you.” 

“Why?” There’s no anger in Minhyun’s words, only a flat intonation of a question that sounds like he knows it’s been a long time coming and that just makes Seongwu feel even worse. 

His chest caves in. “I—” 

Minhyun steps closer. Seongwu steps back. 

“Is this because I got mad about you withholding Daniel? About you not trusting me?” 

“No. I—” He flounders, trying to fish for the words that continually escape him.

The following statements that spill from Minhyun’s mouth like liquid lava scorch every part of Seongwu. He fires, “Don’t tell me you don’t know why then. Don’t tell me it’s because we don’t belong together. Don’t tell me it’s because you don’t love me. Because you and I know that is all not true.” 

No, Seongwu is not going to say they don’t belong together, because every time he looks at Minhyun, it feels like he’s coming home. No, he’s not going to say he doesn’t love Minhyun, because he does, he’s finally realized that he is irrevocably in love with Minhyun and falling out of love is not something that can simply happen overnight. Not after it’s been years in the making, not after he’s finally allowed himself the luxury of feeling so much like this since that one night in November. 

However, all Seongwu does is swallow, attempting to wet his dry throat.

All Seongwu does is begin, hoarse and quiet, “I just want you to be happy.” He shuts his eyes once more. “I’m not the one that can make you happy.” He opens his eyes. 

The cherry blossom petals that lay on the asphalt around them get picked up in the wind, surrounding them in a haze of white and blushing pink. It’s ironic, it’s almost like the most romantic climatic scene of a movie, but here they are, instead, in a standoff. 

“Who are you to decide what or who makes me happy?” Minhyun bites out.

Minhyun’s face has turned completely inscrutable now, even though Seongwu knows, he knows that Minhyun is probably feeling the exact same way that he is right now. Torn apart and suffocated.

“I’ve been _arrested,_ Minhyun, we both know this can result in a criminal charge,” Seongwu says urgently, the words finally feeling real as he voices them out, “I can’t be that person for you.” Seongwu knows, he knows that if Minhyun continues to be tied to him, he’ll just be the weight that drags them both down into the never-ending darkness. This is his way of cutting the thread first. “This is your dream. What is your family going to say when they see you with someone like me? What is everyone else going to say?” Seongwu laughs now, bitterly, “If you can even see me when I’m stuck in a jail cell like before that is.”

Minhyun doesn’t move towards him anymore, and Seongwu can feel his throat closing over, not laughing anymore, his knuckles going white from where he is gripping down on his palm too hard. 

“Never mind about everything you’ve said but you have never been anything less than my equal, anything less than a person that I willingly wanted in my life,” Minhyun’s voice wavers but he holds firm. “I told myself that there was something good in you, that I should keep pressing your hand for friendship; for love. That it would be worth it.” Minhyun himself laughs weakly now, a small hint of the smile that even if it’s humorless, Seongwu wants to keep forever. “And despite you holding back such a big part of yourself, you know what? I don’t regret any of it. I don’t regret any moment we shared together because they were all worth it. I told you years ago that I would always be there for you, and I don’t regret saying that. But this— I regret this right here because it’s something that should not even be happening.” He repeats, “None of this should be happening.”

“Minhyun, it’s not—” 

“Don’t,” Minhyun interrupts with a ferocity that jolts through Seongwu. “I said I don’t want you to give me your shitty, flimsy excuses.” The wind ruffles through Minhyun’s hair and the way a small tuft of it sticks up, so endearingly so that it makes Seongwu’s heart clench. Minhyun’s voice is a whisper now, “Do you know how hard it’s been to try to be with someone who is constantly holding back a part of himself? I—I told myself that maybe after we got together, after you found Daniel, that maybe things would be different—” the next words come out in a strangle, “But you’re still running away.” 

Seongwu doesn’t say anything in reply, can’t say anything. 

Because it’s all true. 

A devastatingly sad smile curls onto Minhyun’s lip when he sees Seongwu isn’t going to reply him. “Well, I guess this is goodbye then.” 

Seongwu doesn’t want to leave it like this between them, he doesn’t want Minhyun to go but he doesn’t have the courage to take back any of his words. He almost desperately wishes that Minhyun would beg him to stay. But he knows that Minhyun is stronger than that, he knows Minhyun respects him more than that and so the air stays quiet between them. 

Seongwu doesn’t know what to say anymore except, “Please take care of yourself.” 

“Right. You too.” 

Minhyun turns to leave without another word, and Seongwu stares, he just stares at the uniform clad back disappearing into the distance, thinking that in one fell swoop, he’s lost everything and he has no one to blame for it except himself.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

The calendar marches on without any care; the earth continues to spin on its axis despite heartbreak. 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

In the first week of April, Seongwu wipes the sweat off his brow, probably leaving an extra layer of grime from the dirt lining his gloved hand. It’s unseasonably hot on the construction site today, the blazing sun glinting off the jungle of metallic steel beams before him. The safety regulations that had been put in place also insist that they still wear long sleeve and long pants to cover all exposed skin (how that would even be of any help, he has no clue) and so the extra length of fabric adds to the trappings of heat. 

He shakes off the slight dizziness that he feels. He’s unsure if it’s just from the fatigue that he’s been feeling especially more today, or because he didn’t have the time to eat anything today. 

It feels like a dream, well, really more like a nightmare rather. 

Just two months ago, everything had felt like they’d finally been aligned by the stars, with him chugging along on the right path. 

He only had to complete his last semester before they would graduate together, to be police officers at last. He had Daniel by his side, and one dream firmly encased within one hand, the other holding onto a second. 

But he’d gotten too comfortable, thinking everything would be so sail so smoothly. 

How wrong he had been.

At least, he had managed to get through his court hearing intact, but he is still currently awaiting the KNPU decision about whether his suspension would be overturned. At this point, Seongwu almost wants to give up.

Today, Seongwu has been at it for hours, hauling bags of cement and heavy stacks of tiling and brick up and down the stairs, repeatedly. They were on a tight schedule needing to finish all the menial tasks, so that the builders could get started on their own job. 

It’s fine with him, he needed the extra work anyway and the quicker he can complete this, the faster he can alleviate this problem. He’s been spending all of his days working full time since he was cleared of hischarges and could finally get a job again. He’s been trying to earn enough money, enough money to buy back the damn bike that represents so many things. The bike that he had found out Daniel had sold to pay off his bail.

This had been something that was unavoidable. 

Seongwu knew that Daniel had won just enough money to buy the fancy bike in the first place, scratching one of those off the counter lottery tickets, he’d been there when it happened. Daniel would have to go back to work consecutively for the year at his minimum wage double jobs in order to save up enough again, and with him currently diligently going to school, Seongwu wouldn’t allow for that. This was the little that he could at least do to replace the smile that had slipped off his brother’s face. There was no point if Daniel wasn’t happy. 

Everything Seongwu does, he does it for Daniel. 

It was a shame though, that Seongwu is currently missing Daniel’s big debut, taking Jihoon’s place in the boxing ring due to the broken arm. He tiredly looks down at his watch, he might be able to at least catch him and the guys after the fight for either a congratulatory, or consolation drink, if he hustles. 

There’s only one more coiling of thick wire that needs to be carted up to the top level, up onto the scaffolding before he can call it a day. Shouldn’t be too hard, but his ankle is already slightly sore from where he had slipped earlier on, in his own haste so he takes it slowly now. 

The dizziness is still present when he tries to place one foot in front of the other, up the steep stairwell. His legs feel like the concrete he had to carry earlier, weighted down like he can barely lift it at all. But he does, he manages to get to the top as he groggily surveys the unfinished building before him.

However, before he can place the wiring down onto the designated space, Seongwu feels himself crumple, body losing the last of its energy to hold itself up anymore. He falls, as he loses his balance, off the side of the stairwell that has no safety railings. He falls, into an endless black hole, trapping with him the last vestiges of his dream.

Seongwu falls, and simultaneously not too far off into the distance, Daniel falls as well.

 

(But only one of them gets back up.) 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

There is only clinical white filling his gaze when Seongwu wakes up, and a steady beeping in the background. His mouth feels completely dry, like someone has stuffed a wad of cotton into it and there is a physical aching within his body that he’s never felt this strongly before. 

The last thing that Seongwu can remember is the brilliant sunlight, so bright that it overtook his entire vision, and the sensation of free fall, as his hand reached out, so reminiscent of the time he tried to pluck a star out of the sky. He turns his head to the side, and he sees Daniel sleeping in the chair beside the bed, head lolling over in what is probably the most uncomfortable of positions. 

At the back of his mind, another face appears like a wisp of cloud but Seongwu is quickly distracted when he takes in the split lip and the numerous dried grazes etched on Daniel’s face. 

Seongwu wants to go over there to right his brother’s head up, to soothe his wounds, to admonish and reprimand but he’s tangled up in cords and wires, and the moment he attempts to shift over, he feels a searing pain shoot through him. He grunts, and Daniel jerks awake, saving him the process of repositioning him. 

“You’re finally awake, thank god.” Daniel scrambles up to stand close to him, concern filling the lines of his face, concern that shouldn’t be there, especially not caused by Seongwu. “We were so worried about you.” 

_We._ The word stands out briefly in his pain addled mind.

Daniel’s eyes search Seongwu’s as he continues fretfully, “Are you sore? I’ll call the nurse.” 

It’s an effort but Seongwu quickly tugs on Daniel’s wrist with his hand before he can move out of the room. “Don’t go,” he croaks out. His fingers tightens, afraid that if he lets go, he’ll never see Daniel again. 

Daniel frowns but just leans over to tap the patient controlled analgesia pump button that Seongwu is hooked up to via the line inserted into his forearm. “They said you can use that if you need. It should help in the meantime.” Seongwu lets his thumb press down to activate the mechanism as Daniel uses the same free hand to run it over Seongwu’s hair. Probably greasy but it doesn’t stop him. The petting feels good, and it sends small waves of comfort through him, as the pain slowly begins to subside as well from the medication that begins to take effect.

“Did you win?” Seongwu whispers. 

“Yes, but—,” Daniel replies, almost scoldingly, “that doesn’t matter at all. I was so scared when I got the call. We rushed over here as soon as we could. What were you thinking working so many hours?” 

“I wanted to buy you back the motorbike.”

He begins to drift off before fully hearing the rest of Daniel’s answer about _not needing the motorbike, about that he is far more important than that_ , but there is a short window of awareness that is still leftover when he thinks, he thinks if he had to give up his life for Daniel, he would do it again in a heartbeat. 

But in that very same window, Seongwu remembers, he remembers Minhyun and immediately all the synapses and cells in his brain and body reject that previous train of thought completely with an outpouring vengeance. 

 

 

 

Seongwu filters in and out of sleep over the next few days, body struggling to heal itself. There’s been plenty of commotion with doctors, nurses, and a steady stream of visitors who have popped around after hearing that Seongwu has finally woke up. He is surprised when he sees face after face of people that have carved their own place into his life, without him even realizing. 

But the only person that is stamped on Seongwu’s mind hasn’t shown up yet.

(Or so he thinks, when a lone man just leans against the wall outside his room waiting, arms and ankles crossed, a picture of a scene from a time long ago. Four years in fact. However this time, he’s filled with hesitance and his eyes are tightly squeezed shut, fingernails digging crescent indents into his own upper arm instead, too afraid to take a step into the room. “How is he, Daniel?” “The doctors say his prognosis is long but pretty good. He just refuses to get up out of bed on some days which isn’t helping.” “Typical.” They both share small smiles even if it’s painful. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I’m sure he’ll come around once he sees you.” “Thanks but it’s— it’s okay. I’ll leave him in your capable hands. I’m just glad to know he's alright.”) 

 

“Take it slowly!” Daniel reprimands as he reaches out to grab a hold of an unbalanced Seongwu who doesn’t understand the word moderation as he tries to moves too quickly in his effort to swing himself out of bed a week after the accident. 

Seongwu glares at his brother, pushing the helpful hands away, and says meanly, “If I can’t even get myself to the bathroom without you stuck to me like glue all the time, how do you expect me to get back out there into the real world?”

Daniel doesn’t take any offence and just laughs as he always does, “At least you’re finally thinking like yourself.” He stands back, not touching Seongwu but he doesn’t move away too far, just in case. 

Seongwu ignores Daniel as he focuses on taking the short walk towards the opposite end of the room. He used to run the long winding track around Mt Buphwa, twice over, he can do this. But his feet are slightly unsteady as he still feels weak from the accident. The doctor’s words come back to haunt him saying that it’s going to be a lengthy process in recovery as he sustained a lot of internal injury. Also, two lumbar vertebrae fractures, and a very tiny hairline crack in his pelvis. He’s lucky to be alive after a fall from such a height.

The physical therapist who had come in the first few days to teach him some mobility exercises and to fit him with a brace had reminded him that he didn’t sustain any spinal cord damage, just bony injury. She had told him again that he was extremely lucky. It’ll still be a long road, but it’s doable and she be back in touch with him after the initial healing process to begin proper rehabilitation. 

However, he’s not sure if they’ve diagnosed him right because his back feels like it’s on fire every time he moves an inch, and he feels like he can never straighten up again. 

But he resolutely forces himself to embark on the snail pace journey to his destination. 

“Minhyun-hyung was here before,” Daniel blurts out suddenly and Seongwu immediately tastes heartbreak. His foot falters and he almost goes crashing on his ass if not for Daniel’s hands that wrap around him quickly to support him. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.” 

Seongwu heaves a breath, and forces himself to get upright again. The small nagging voice slides through his mind, _widen your feet so you have a larger base of support, you’ll feel more balanced_ and he feels numb. “Tell him not to come back if he shows up again.” 

Another two steps, he can do it. 

“I still don’t understand why you guys broke up.” Daniel’s gaze is reproving and Seongwu almost wants to tell him it’s none of his business, but really, it has everything to do with Daniel. “You guys were so good together.”

“Well get used to it because I dumped him.” 

“You _what_?” Daniel almost screeches in his ear, a now incredulous look plastered onto his face. Seongwu just wipes the sweat that has beaded onto his brow and almost slumps onto the toilet seat in victory at making the hike. 

“Out, I don’t need you for this part.” 

Daniel goes to stand outside the bathroom door just mumbling, “Minhyun-hyung is perfect, why would you do that? I really don’t understand.” 

Neither does Seongwu but that’s how life goes sometimes.

He braces his weight on the metal railing that juts out from the wall with his left hand whilst using his right to fish his pants back up to slide back over his bottom. “Done.” Daniel slides open the bathroom door again to allow Seongwu to shuffle back towards the bed. Seongwu murmurs under his breath as he mechanically puts one foot in front of the other over an imaginary line, “You’re wrong, Minhyun isn’t perfect but either way it doesn’t matter.” 

Daniel frowns, eyebrows angling up in confusion. “Does this all have to do with the whole fight situation? Because if it does, then everything is over now isn’t it? Why can’t you guys be together again?” 

All these questions that Seongwu doesn’t have the answer to. 

He falls back onto the bed, thankful for the comforts of it after the strain. Daniel moves to cover him with the thin blanket and goes to place a glass of water next to him on the side table within reach. 

Seongwu’s hip aches and his back feels like a colony of fire ants has made their nest over it. He finally replies, voice detached, “I can barely even walk by myself, let alone know if I can go back to KNPU. While Minhyun has everything he needs. He’s got the police, he’s got you guys, he’s got his family. He deserves more than me because I can’t give him anything else. Especially in this state.” He reaches over slowly to grab the cup.

Daniel’s eyes are almost cold as he takes in his brother’s words. The coldest he’s ever seen them. “You are being extremely stupid right now, do you know?” Seongwu flinches and almost spills the water. 

There’s still sweat dripping down the back of his neck from the exertion of the short walk, and Seongwu’s hands are shaking from where he sets the glass back down on the surface. He says, “I know, but Minhyun is better off without me. Minhyun will be happier without me.” 

Daniel’s voice has almost risen to a loudspeaker level when he returns with a direct statement, “And what about you?” 

“It— It doesn’t matter what I want.” Seongwu’s eyes shutter, wanting this conversation to end. 

“How can you think that?” Daniel’s grabs ahold of his hands that have been gripping the blanket with a furious tightness. “You matter. You matter to me, and you matter to Minhyun-hyung. I don’t know why you can’t see it but you deserve your own happiness, it’s that simple.” 

Seongwu shakes his head but allows his hands to continue to be held in a warm embrace.

Daniel continues on, voice subsided back down to normal levels now, “Just so you know, I’ve never seen Minhyun-hyung so happy before you.” 

The incessant clock in Seongwu’s head ticks on. 

“I’m just— I’m afraid, okay?” Seongwu bursts out, his voice coming out in a breathless rush, He’s not sure if it’s because of the pills, but his tongue tastes like chalk. “I’m afraid of everything. I’m afraid that I’m going to lose you again, that I’m going to lose Minhyun.” His head hurts, a vice grip wrapped around his temples. He wants to sleep.

“Then why am I still here? Why aren’t you giving me the same treatment as Minhyun-hyung?” 

“I— It’s because I’ve already lost you once, I can’t do it again. It’s because you’re family.” 

Daniel stares at Seongwu, an impenetrable glare now. He says after a beat, “And so is Minhyun-hyung. We make our own families.” Daniel picks up the empty flask, and says, “Rest. I’m going to go fill this up.” He moves to leave, but before he steps out of the room, he turns around and says, in the softest of tones, “Doing this means you’ve already lost Minhyun, you dumb idiot.”

Daniel exits, leaving Seongwu to just lie back, looking up at the same clinical whiteness of the ceiling, the first thing he saw when he woke up. 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

( “We are gathered here today to decide if class of twenty-seventeen, recruit Ong Seongwu-sshi should be deemed punishable for the event that occurred two months ago outside of campus grounds. This meeting has been delayed on the event of the postponement of the original court date. Someone please explain the conclusive situation now that we have a result.” 

“If I may, I have listened to the statement recordings from his court hearing. It was discovered during the session when they allowed a delayed witness to take the stand that Seongwu-sshi had only arrived shortly on the scene following the assault that took place. It was surmised that he had been trying to protect his brother and their friends’ reputations by being the only one to stay behind to take the fall leading to his initial arrest. It is stressed here in writing that the conclusion was made in that because he did not physically get involved in the fight, he was thusly cleared of all criminal charges. It was also deemed that the altercation was begun due to self-defence against several individuals with noted gang connections and so the case was resolved amicably in the end.” 

“Yes, it was also re-confirmed with several other witnesses at the billiards room who corroborated to the statement.”

“Does it matter? Seongwu-sshi was arrested, still ended up spending the night in the cell and was given a court date. If we don’t expel him following this, it sets a bad example for the rest of the students that could potentially get involved in other similar situations.” 

“Should I remind you that he was cleared of all charges in the end? Should we not have faith in our own justice system? Should an innocent man throw away the last four years of his life, and a potential career? Please enlighten me because other than light disciplinary action, I don’t see why he should be expelled.” 

“Well, even if we give him permission to complete his major, there’s been word he sustained great injury as a result of a tragic accident during his suspension. In that case, will he even be able to return?” 

“That has no bearing on the subject at hand.” ) 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Seongwu gets discharged after another week, when the doctor deem that he’s healed relatively well enough to warrant continuing the recovery process at home. It was the internal injuries they had wanted to keep an eye on but his fractures should be fairly stable now too. He sternly tells him to make sure there’s always someone around though, and for him to come in for his outpatient sessions with the physical therapist. 

There is a chorus of “Yes sir!” from the rest of the other boys taking up all the space in hospital room when the doctor delivers his prescriptive advice, and Jisung emphasizes that he’ll make sure that Seongwu is fed very well. 

His heart almost seizes when he hears that, mind running back through all the past few years, to the bbq lunches, to the evening dinner boxes, to the late night chicken meals but Seongwu just viciously shoves the memories away, to lock up in a box at the base of his brain. 

He doesn’t think about all the times he spent at KNPU despite the suspension being transferred into a deferment, because he still doesn’t know what he wants. 

The days quickly meld into one another as he begins a new daily routine. Learning how to walk again, learning how to move slowly without causing his back muscles to spasm up, learning how to deal with the constant frustrations he feels, is all he can think about.

In the first few weeks of returning home, Seongwu yells at Daniel, yells at himself. He refuses to even consider going back to KNPU in the first month of leaving the hospital, despite knowing how lucky he was again, to have been given the opportunity to return. Kind of hard when he can barely walk ten minutes without losing his breath, to think about the physicality of the job. 

He holes himself in the darkness of his bedroom, and when he sees stark reminders of the future he could have had, might never have, he throws his old police textbooks against the closed door. He yells one more time when he reaggravates his back in the process. 

Joining the police force had started off as a means to the end, a way to hopefully look into the case that had plagued him all his life. 

He had done it for Daniel. 

However, now that his brother was found and happy again and his body, left a shell of uselessness, the idea of it became seemingly pointless.

Seongwu shuts himself down again, exactly like how he did immediately after he had been arrested, this time feeling like something even more physical had been ripped from him. He spends all the remaining hours of the day feeling sorry for himself but not doing anything about it.

It’s not until Daniel barges into the bedroom, flings back all the curtains and literally shines a light onto Seongwu, telling him that he’s wasting this life that he’s been given back and forces Seongwu to promise that _he_ won’t lose him again. He can't lose Seongwu again. Daniel reminds Seongwu that it wasn’t only Seongwu that lost something, someone that day. He reminds Seongwu that he had lost not one but _three_. 

Before Seongwu can fall back into another episode of self-inflicted guilt, Daniel tells him earnestly that he doesn’t blame Seongwu for what happens, and although it doesn’t absolve him, it starts the process of lightening the load.

It’s not until Daniel, bringing reinforcements this time: Sungwoon and Jisung, barge into his bedroom again, telling him to get the fuck out of bed because they’re bringing him to therapy that the doctor ordered. And he’s going whether he wants to or not.

However, it’s not easy to begin with, when Seongwu still feels the sharp jolts of pain every time he coughs or lifts his leg, and he can’t stop the desperate tears of frustration leaking from his eyes. But he doesn't allow himself to cry, not for a dream that wasn't his to begin with.

It’s not easy because nothing comes overnight. The physical therapist chastises him when he admits he hasn’t done his exercises, lying there pathetically when she questions him about them. “You can’t expect me to help you all the way, you have to help yourself as well.” 

(Here, he doesn’t think about Minhyun and how he used to rebuke Seongwu on the days that he moaned he was too lazy to run. Oh, how he wished he could run now.) 

But then it does, it slowly comes with time as long as he _tries_.

The therapist finally smiles at him during another session when he manages to walk a continuous loop around the room without aid, with an even gait, “There we go, you’ve got this.” 

(Here, he doesn’t think about Minhyun and the way he constantly pulled Seongwu up with casual compliments and the way it would always make him want to do better.) 

The guys come over to the apartment almost every few days, filling the once lonely and quiet home with a loudness that Seongwu has allowed himself to love and appreciate again. However, there’s always still an empty hole both in his life and his heart. 

(He doesn’t think about Minhyun.)

(He doesn’t allow himself to think about Minhyun.)

Jisung keeps his promise, and comes by to help feed both Daniel and Seongwu sometimes just bringing a bag full of instant ramen, and some days bringing several boxes of a full spread, of a nicely packed dinner. Seongwu had questioned where he got it, murmuring that he didn’t think that Jisung had quite the cooking skills, but they had gotten interrupted when Jihoon and Woojin came sliding by on the linoleum in their socks, almost bowling them over. They ended up getting an earful from Jisung.

He doesn’t think about Minhyun and the other boys don’t talk about Minhyun.

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

It’s almost five months down the track from the accident when Seongwu is standing at the nearby park, just a ten minute walk from his apartment. He takes a long drink of water from his bottle before wiping the traces of liquid from his mouth with the back of his hand. The long road that the physical therapist was talking about after he had first woken up has finally started to feel like there’s soon going to be an end. 

Seongwu finally has got enough energy not just to walk, but to finally go for runs again. They are not quite the ones he used to do, but small steps.

He takes in a deep breath of the surrounding fresh air, the warm air filling his lungs. His left hip and back still give him more grief than usual after arduous activity, but it’s a small price to pay for being able to live again. He’s been working part time again at the nearby cafe and been spending his afternoons exercising, trying to regain all of that stamina that he built up over the nearly four years in university. 

Dongho stretches beside him, grimacing at the tightness since flexibility isn’t his strongest suit. It makes Seongwu smile. He has managed to keep a close friendship with his previous roommate, meeting him often enough since the other man is currently stationed at the precinct only one neighborhood over. Youngmin and Sanggyun were currently based over in Incheon, and Suwon respectively, so he doesn’t get to see them as much and relies on Dongho for news. 

It is during these minutes that Seongwu allows himself to think about the dream that has never quite left him. He listens to the stories that Dongho brings to him, about the dubiously exciting recounts when Dongho mentions about the skirmish that occurred last night in the building, and the confirmed boring complaints about the never-ending paperwork that follows. 

After his accident Seongwu had to rethink if he wanted to fight for it and rejoin, or to choose another easier career path. 

_Fight for it_ , his mind had finally come to the conclusion the day he managed to run his first mile without passing out in a heap. 

_Fight for it_ , because Seongwu had come to realize that his fingers could finally almost grasp onto a dream that was only his own now. A dream, though still having roots in the worst memory of his life, could hopefully grow into something positive, something that he could be proud of, that he was actually happy about. A dream where he could finally do something about the guilt that still sits on his back like a skyscraper, though not quite a mountain any more and maybe help to be somewhat a small change to one person at least. 

_Fight for it_ , because it’s a choice that he finally makes on his own.

And so, on the other’s prodding, he finally mustered up enough courage to go into the university to speak to the course coordinator. She had told him that she was glad Seongwu decided to not pull out following his deferment, and that the small black mark against his name wouldn’t be a problem since everything was resolved. She welcomed him back into the fold and told him he could complete his last semester in autumn. 

(Provided he didn’t get into any more trouble. He had thanked her profusely, and made another promise that hopefully he would be able to keep this time.) 

They speed up into another jog through the winding designated pathway, focusing on running for half an hour before Seongwu asks breathlessly, “How are you and Kyulkyung doing?” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “She hasn’t got sick of your ugly mug yet?” 

Dongho, being the nicest guy that he is, doesn’t react to the barb and chuckles. “Yeah, just as surprised as you are.” He continues, words coming out in a puff, “Thinking of proposing to her in the fall.” Seongwu almost stumbles, foot catching slightly on the uneven ground. “Whoa, alright there?” 

“Yeah,” Seongwu replies. “Just thought I heard something crazy.” 

Dongho grins. “Nah, you heard right. I know I wanna spend the rest of my life with her so why wait?”

Seongwu’s chest burns hearing that, in happiness for his friend for finding that person, his other half, and it burns in the way that he remembers all the past memories and the emptiness that he still feels. They slow back down into a brisk walk, their last round to cool down their muscles. “I’m glad for you. I expect to be one of your groomsmen or else.” 

“Of course, don’t worry,” Dongho answers easily. “Oh by the way, do you want to come out for a drink tonight?” Dongho finishes the last of his stretching before straightening back up again to look at Seongwu in question. “It’s a last minute thing but some of the other guys are back in town for the long weekend and we’re all going to meet up near Hangang.” 

Seongwu hesitates. 

Dongho senses it and casually continues as he bends over again to tie his loose shoelace, “Yeah, Minhyun said he’s going to be there. You guys are still not talking?” 

“No, we’re not,” Seongwu says shortly, ignoring the ache in both his back and in his heart, the one he thought wouldn’t be there anymore after so long. “Anyway, I don’t think anyone would really want to talk to their ex, wouldn’t want to see their ex, so I guess I’ll pass. Thanks though.” 

The birds twitter in the sky, the sound mixing in with the loud shouts in the playground, and the woofings of the neighborhood dogs. The sounds of everyday life that Seongwu has gotten used to. 

“You know,” Dongho now says carefully, “He’s never stopped asking me for updates about you.” 

Seongwu doesn’t say anything and just fixes his eyes on the two young boys kicking a football on the grassy verge next to them. 

“He knows we meet up for these runs, and my phone always blows up afterwards, with him asking me things like how you were, how you looked, have you eaten.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Seongwu asks softly, almost regressing back into his old ways. 

“I just want you to know that Minhyun still cares,” Dongho answers with a clarity that Seongwu doesn't want to face. “Never stopped.”

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

That night, Seongwu finally thinks about Minhyun. 

He’s spent the last few hours reading over his textbooks (the ones that didn’t get destroyed by his resentment) in an attempt to prepare himself for the near re-enrollment back at KNPU. It doesn’t go too badly, thankful for the way he has still retained most of the information he previously learnt but he ends up with a headache, not used to the prolonged periods of concentration.

He takes a painkiller and decides to give his brain a break when he switches on his laptop to fall into the black hole of watching random videos on YouTube. It’s not until he sees a particular link sitting on the side tab of related videos that he realises it’s one that he’s watched countless times before.

It’s the same judo tutorial video that Minhyun had first passed to him through the first gifting of the usb. Although he’s slowly picked judo back up, familiarising with the moves by using a wrestling dummy, he hasn’t sparred with anyone one on one since prior to the accident, prior to heartbreak. Seongwu hovers the cursor over the title for the entirety of the song in the currently playing video, before he gives in and clicks the link. 

Once again, the minutes span into an hour as he watches all the videos in the playlist. 

When he finishes, he finally lets himself think about Minhyun and the way he charms the cafeteria workers into keeping aside dinner for Seongwu knowing he’s going to be back late from his work. He thinks about his clear humming and playful nagging when waking Seongwu up in the morning or any of the physical activities that they used to engage in together whether it was running, sparring or fucking. He thinks about the times that his lips press onto Minhyun’s and it felt like he never wanted to leave. 

It’s in this moment, he allows himself to finally completely cry thinking about Minhyun and the night they talked about graduation, about becoming police officers together, and the day that it was pulled away from him. It’s in this moment where it almost feels like the day they were separated from Daniel, feeling like an extension of himself being lost and suffocating himself with the guilt. 

Seongwu cries, and cries and cries, tears wetting his keyboard, and intensifying his headache. He cries realizing that he’s so in love with Minhyun still, and that he’s been trying to deny the realization of the fact for the past four years. He cries, loud wracking sobs that feel like they are never going to end.

But like everything, it does, and Seongwu drags himself to the shower, allowing the hot water to wash down over him. When he’s done with the cleansing, he lies back down in bed and stares at the phone now sitting in his hand. 

His mind writes out the words _I’m sorry for hurting you . I’m sorry for running away . I’m sorry for everything . I just need some time_ ; but his thumbs don’t move over the screen and nothing gets sent after all. 

 

 

( Seongwu thinks, he thinks, just before he falls asleep, _give me some time or perhaps even a whole lifetime to get over you._ )

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

Seongwu manages to finally graduate in February, only a year late, but he does, cap and badge in hand, and the rank ‘inspector’. There is a glowing warmth, a small burning of a different kind of hope that he’s allowed to make space inside him as he is congratulated by his professors, and his peers, the new friends he made in the short term he spent finishing his last semester surrounding him during commencement.

He had just wanted the entire thing to be a quiet affair, but the boys didn’t allow it. They surprised him after the ceremony with another cake, so reminiscent to the time from before, only this time they were still missing one particular person.

When he had blown out the candles on his own, surrounded by his friends and his brother, there had only one name on the tip of his tongue, his only wish. 

March turns into April, as he spends his days familiarizing himself with being a functional adult and his new job, lucky enough to have been placed at a precinct still within Seoul. His section chief is a hard ass but he’s bold and tenacious, and Seongwu learns a lot. 

It’s in the middle of the month, deep into cherry blossom season when Seongwu gets a kkt message as he’s walking home from the subway station, petals falling all around him. 

It’s from Dongho. 

> Gym tomorrow night? Everyone’s up for some judo practice @ 9pm. 

Other than drinks, sometimes they train, to continue to keep fit, separate to regular runs he still attempts with Dongho. But he hasn’t seen the others in a while actually, not since the week after his graduation ceremony since everyone’s been too busy with their lives lately. 

Another message comes through before Seongwu can reply.

> Minhyun will be there. But please come. 

Seongwu’s thumbs are itchy as they hover over the screen. It’ll be easy enough to say no, to just carry on with his life silently, but— he doesn’t want to do that anymore. He feels almost anchor-less for once, free from every single burden except one. And he thinks he’s finally ready.

So, he sends a different message instead, to say yes to the push. The same one that everyone continuously gives him.

> Okay. See you there. 

 

 

There’s not very many people left in the gym at this late hour, especially on a Tuesday evening. 

The door opens, and Seongwu automatically glances at it, and his heart jerks when he sees Minhyun walk through to step into the gym. He knew that the other man was going to be here, but in this exact moment Seongwu just feels like dropping everything to go home, to continue to pretend he isn’t running away because Minhyun was right, he always did. Seongwu’s best thing to do was to run away. 

Today, he doesn’t though, and just stands there and stares. 

Minhyun stares back, and Seongwu thinks, he looks beautiful as always. He’s in his white judo gi, and the pureness of the color reflects the ghostly expression that washes over his face when he obviously takes in Seongwu presence.

Seongwu looks sidelong at Dongho and mutters under his breath, “Did he not know I was coming?” Dongho looks somewhat cornered, and Seongwu immediately clicks. “You fucker, did you set this up on purpose? The others aren’t coming right?” 

“It’s been a long year,” Dongho just says tiredly, “We’re all sick of it. Use this as an opportunity to your advantage.” He gives Seongwu a reassuring pat on the arm. “Anyway my work is done so I’m leaving. See you on Friday, you better have some good news for me by then, if not before.” Dongho at least has the decency to look contrite when he apologizes to Minhyun who has finally decided to walk over to join them, citing the fake excuse that he’s been called into work. 

“Seongwu,” Minhyun says and Seongwu tries to ignore the way his name sounds like it belongs there on Minhyun’s lips. “It’s been a while.” 

Seongwu runs his tongue over the back of his teeth. “It’s been much longer than that.”

Minhyun’s eyes flash, a quick bite. “I haven’t been counting.” 

“Well, I have,” Seongwu replies. His lips feel chapped, and his brain screams at him not to give everything away. His heart says otherwise. Minhyun stands there on the mat, two paces away from him. The gym is now empty, with the last person having just left for the showers.

They stand in silence, until Minhyun says, or rather he whispers into the stale air, “Don’t say things like that.” 

Seongwu just tightens his belt and they take slow steps around each other, gazes fixed on each other.

After so long of having not sparred together, it’s a wonder they fall back into the same routine so easily. Without words now, with only their bodies to tell the story, they move again with a familiarity as though a year didn’t slip through their outstretched hands.

It’s a familiarity where Minhyun knows Seongwu’s weaknesses better than his own.

But as fluid as their movements are, they also take out the year’s worth of frustration against each other, throw after throw, punch and uppercut after blow and jab. Minhyun and him are both completely out of breath when they finally come apart, with Seongwu rolling into a breakfall to land cleanly across the mat. His back twinges when he rights himself up, a white lick of pain and it makes him wince. 

Minhyun doesn’t miss anything and immediately moves closer in concern, a reflex action, despite his initial wariness. “Don’t,” Seongwu exhales loudly, breathing through his nose and slowly stretches out the kink. “It’s fine— I’m fine.” He is, he just needs a fucking second and true to these words, the spasm settles fast enough. 

“Again.”

“No,” Minhyun shakes his head, worry still etched on to his face. “You’ve had enough.”

“Don’t—” Seongwu is rigid when he repeats the word, the sentiment, “—treat me differently.” 

Minhyun shakes his head one more time, as he says gently, “It’s never been about pity, Seongwu.” The unyielding statement immediately makes Seongwu’s heart plummet, as he feels his stomach swooping with fast emotion at the same time. 

“I know— I just—” Seongwu can barely even get the words out, but he is so desperate at the thought of being able to complete the rest of the dialogue that they never got to finish that one day surrounded by pink. “Can we please talk?” 

“Aren’t we already doing that?” 

“No, I— I want to properly apologize for last year.” Seongwu wrings his hands, scratching his nail down his palm. “I wasn’t able to give you a reason for breaking up with you then, and I want you to finally know why.” For closure, for him, and for Minhyun. If today doesn’t go the way he wants it to, then at least he tried.

“What if I say I don’t want to hear it?” There’s harshness to his words, but there the fear is there again.

“You have all the right to tell me no today.” Seongwu hopes not, but he too respects Minhyun too much to not accept the choices he makes. “I’ll just keep asking, over and over again until you tell me to shut up.” 

“Well,” Minhyun begins, in a forced show of nonchalance despite the pale face he sports now, the blood from the exertion having drained back out again. “In that case, I guess I might as well hear it now, shouldn’t I?” 

“I’ve already taken up too much of your time but I’m hoping you will at least listen to this, listen to me, but it’s your decision.” 

There is a short pause before Minhyun says, “Okay.” 

With the one worded permission, the words pour out of Seongwu finally. 

“I think I always knew,” Seongwu admits with a small burning of shame. “But it finally hit me when I went to therapy; both physical and psychological. They made me confront everything and I should have done it a long time ago. I—I realized that I was terrified. I was terrified of how you made me feel. How _much_ you made me feel.” The waterfall of words pause as Seongwu tries to catch his breath. “After I lost Daniel, I thought that maybe if I didn’t let you— anyone really, to come close, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if you were ever taken from me.” Seongwu hollowly laughs. “I didn’t think that by pushing you away, I was doing the one thing that I didn’t want, to both you and to me.” 

Minhyun shifts (as though to take a step towards Seongwu or perhaps away from Seongwu) and he quickly holds out his hand, almost in a way to stop the other. “Please, let me finish first.” Minhyun nods and stands rooted to the ground where he is. “You were right back then, in that I didn’t trust you— I thought because it was my fault, that I should have been the one to solve everything by myself. After the accident, it became worse because this time I couldn’t even goddamn _walk_ without help and I thought, I wouldn’t be able to handle anymore guilt if I had ended up becoming a burden to you instead of someone that was supposed to be your equal.” He can hear the faltering in his voice. “And so, I made the decision even after they cleared my name. The decision that even if I wanted so much to call you back then, to see you back then, I needed to do this by myself. I needed to do it for _me_.” 

Minhyun’s hand is still clutching at his belt, eyes flickering back and forth, from the mat to Seongwu and back down again. 

“I know I hurt you in the process,” Seongwu’s voice is subdued and his legs feel like they won’t be able to hold his weight up. “I hurt you a lot. So yeah, I want to apologize for that now, and I’m so sorry it’s come so late. One year too late.” 

Minhyun finally speaks, husky, and a touch of shakiness, “Is that what you’re here to tell me? To say sorry?” Seongwu feels all the hurt in the world emanating from the man standing in front of him but he’s there at least. 

“Yes,” Seongwu answers. “But remember that time you said you’d trade me secret for a secret and I told you some bullshit thing about liking your hug?” Minhyun nods again, face pinched at the memory. “Well, I’m here to tell you another secret today, a proper secret,” Seongwu continues slowly. “A real big secret.”

A deep breath, and then another. “What is it?”

“Minhyun,” Seongwu says, trembling again now, “In all my years after losing my brother, I only had one singular focus. I was prepared to live the rest of my life with that tunnel vision, but then you came in and forced me to realize that I had more than one focus, more than one desire. That I couldn’t spend life living it alone— even if I didn’t see it at the time.” His throat tightens painfully. “I was an idiot to let you go, but I came to realize that I needed it. I came to realize that in my year away from you, that although we don’t need each other, I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else as much as I’ve wanted to be with you. That I was—am still in love with you.” 

Seongwu reminds himself to breathe again when he finishes speaking, that it’s okay to do so. 

Minhyun just stares back at him with that exact same knowing look that Seongwu has seen a thousand times before, the one he has come to hate and come to love over the years, but again he doesn’t say anything. 

“I guess what I wanted to say is that I don’t want to run anymore,” Seongwu chokes out, vision growing blurry. “Ah, you don’t have to say anything back. I just thought I’d let you know how I felt.” He moves to leave. Seongwu’s chest is pounding so hard, and there’s a river of embarrassment again, this time at something much more important than just a rejected hug. 

However once again, like that time so many days ago, Minhyun reaches out to catch his hand to stop him from leaving and in that moment the free fall that he’s actually experienced— the sensation, it comes back to him again now. It’s like falling off the highest precipice without knowing what lies at the bottom. 

But this time someone catches him.

When their bodies align against one another’s, it feels like coming home again. Minhyun is the tangibility he has so desperately wanted all these years. Seongwu kisses Minhyun this time, a soft slide of lips as he simultaneously cups his hands around Minhyun’s jaw, thumb brushing along the angled lines that he’s so urgently missed. They kiss and they kiss and they kiss.

“You’re right. You truly are an idiot,” Minhyun breathes out when they break apart but he doesn’t let go, just holding on ever so tightly.

Seongwu almost wants to cry in happiness but he just clutches at Minhyun’s judo gi and just replies, “Everything I confessed and said, and you hone in on that?” He leans his forehead against Minhyun’s, and there’s nothing but absolute relief in his voice despite the complaint.

“Yeah,” Minhyun answers. “Because you are. But you’re _my_ idiot.” He kisses Seongwu again before he breathes out, “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long, I’ve been waiting for you for so long. But I’m glad you finally came back to me.” 

Seongwu gathers himself and says, “I should have just listened to you all those years ago.” He smiles. “Would have saved us all of this trouble.” 

Minhyun leans back, though still holding on to Seongwu and says, “No— like you said, you needed to figure this out for yourself. And I didn’t get it at first, but I realized I needed the time apart for myself too. I accused you that day of running away— And you were— But I didn’t realize I was doing it myself too. Not from you, but from everything else.” He soldiers on. “I spent all my years craving for someone to love me, to love the person that I was trying so hard to be. I was so upset that you wouldn’t love me on my terms and I couldn’t understand why you couldn’t give everything to me so quickly.

“I was so simultaneously mad and worried in the first few months after the break up, after your accident.” Minhyun’s eyes curve into those crescent moons again. “Don’t yell at me but I did try to forget you in the last year. I tried dating—” A noise emits from Seongwu’s throat but he forces it back down and just allows his fingers to grip even tighter on Minhyun’s gi. “Don’t worry, it went completely disastrously. I think you’ve ruined me. I also finally talked to my parents, like finally properly talking and I think we’re maybe making some headway. Anyway, I realized that everyone, we’re all just scared— scared of living a life that isn’t the one we planned. But no matter what, I realized that I want to live any life with you.”

The sparks in Seongwu stomach, the ones that were originally the old cinders from a long time ago glow like embers in a new fire bed. He knows inside him that that there are things that he might never be able to completely fix. But at least he knows that he isn’t alone.

“Are you sure you want to be with me even though I hurt you so much?” Seongwu asks carefully.

“Of course,” Minhyun’s smile is the most beautiful thing in the world. “Because I’m still completely in love with you too.” He reaches his right hand up to brush the fringe out of Seongwu’s eyes. His tone is fond and so full of that same love when he just says, “Your hair is too long, I can’t believe they haven’t brought you up on that yet.” 

“I’ve graduated now, I can do whatever I want.” He leans down to place another kiss on Minhyun’s lips, addicted. 

“And what do you want?” The tips of Seongwu’s fingers are still lingering against Minhyun’s nape when the words from so long ago repeat themselves again. And finally, finally Seongwu has the answer. 

“I only want you, always.” 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

epilogue:

 

 

When Seongwu wakes up, he is glad to finally have the quiet of the new apartment to himself and Minhyun once again, with only the hum of the washing machine in the background. He reaches his hand over absentmindedly but it only grasps empty space on the other side of the bed. The sheets are cool, indicating the owner left a little while ago. 

He drags himself out of bed, pulls on a pair of lightweight pants, and a t-shirt before padding down the hallway to the living room.

They had all their friends over the previous night to celebrate the move in, and the apartment has been left in a mess. Bottles of various types of drinks, and takeaway food boxes litter the table. There’s also a smattering of housewarming gifts, mundane things like a stack of toilet paper rolls, bottles of laundry detergent and other cleaning products that Minhyun had been delighted to receive. 

(Jonghyun had finally been able to meet both Daniel, and Minhyun, and everyone else. They stand off to the side watching Daniel play wrestle with Jihoon only for them to almost break their new TV, and Seongwu comments to Jonghyun, "You must be wishing I'm still withholding all of this." Jonghyun just laughs and says, "No chance.")

Seongwu ignores the disorganized chaos and goes to open the sliding door to the small balcony they were lucky enough to have attached to their apartment. It was something that he hadn’t been able to compromise on, a throwback to the memory of the night they stood under the night sky and made that one silent promise to be police officers together. The one he hadn’t been able to keep until now.

He stands there, leaning against the railing, watching the world go by when he hears the apartment door click open. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Minhyun, hearing the soft singing that comes from behind him. 

“Morning.” Seongwu feels a hand brush against the small of his back, and a light kiss pressed on the side of his neck. He leans into it and revels in the closeness of Minhyun.

“Where did you go?”

“I just went to apologize to the neighbor in case we made too much noise last night,” Minhyun replies, arms still wrapped around his hips. Seongwu looks at him, sees the amount of love reflected back in his eyes, the same love he feels himself and he thinks he’s never been more at home.

“You’re too good.” Seongwu yawns, though trying to stifle it with his palm. “You should have woken me up earlier so I could go with you. It’s my home too, Hyun-ah.” 

Minhyun nudges him back into the apartment, saying, “You looked so tired after your shift last night, you almost couldn’t keep awake during the party despite all the rowdiness so I figured you might need the extra minutes.” Seongwu ended up with more paperwork than he had expected, unable to get away after they had unexpectedly closed a case they had been working on for the last several months. 

They don’t work together, not even in the same precinct, and they mostly meet at night; some nights so late that they have to slip into bed with care to not wake the other person up, the other shifting to make room under the covers.

On some nights, they fall asleep immediately, on separate ends of the bed because it is far too hot, and they are too heavy with the fatigue and weariness of the day. Whilst on other nights, Seongwu reaches his arms out blindly to allow Minhyun to settle against his chest, allowing his nose to nuzzle into the same hollow of his throat as they fall asleep, leg draped over leg. 

On some nights, they fall asleep just like that, but on other nights, before they do, they kiss with a gentleness that is warm and familiar knowing what each other likes. Whilst on other nights they kiss with a desperation and ferocity that transmit the force of a message in saying _I’m happy that you’re here with me_. 

On some nights, the kiss becomes a slow fucking, leaving either Seongwu’s mouth only knowing how to produce a litany of words that just consists of Minhyun’s name, as he takes the other man deep within him, or the days where they switch and Seongwu slides into Minhyun with the most care he can give. Whilst on other nights, they don’t make it all the way, but a hand job or a blow job is better than nothing at all and they are happy regardless even if all they receive is a choppy jerk of hips, or a short tangle of limbs. 

They treasure each off day they are given, especially the ones they get to spend together, lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing. They eat the food the Minhyun makes for them, and they giggle over the latest viral video that has had everyone in their respective precincts laughing over. They go out to watch the latest movies, for bike rides, for that one picnic that Seongwu had prepared for their first anniversary, the first time he fed Minhyun an entire meal, made all by himself. They spar when they can, just the two of them, a rivalry in the gym that has never ended. They meet up with their friends, both sides of the coin, and go out for drinks late into the night. 

It’s not all rosy, there’s definitely arguments and there’s hurt. But regardless, they fight past it and enjoy every single other moment they have because they know what it feels like to not have one another.

“There’s nothing in the fridge, they really cleaned us out so I guess we should go out for breakfast?” Seongwu questions as his head is stuck inside the fridge. He pulls back to look at Minhyun who is tying up the last of the trash that they had painstakingly been clearing for the last half an hour. 

“It’s eleven am,” Minhyun says dryly as he places the bag on the ground by the front door. 

Seongwu smiles, “Well, I guess we can go for brunch then.” 

 

 

 

 

⚘⚘⚘

 

 

 

 

 

The most perfect person for you is never the one that takes your breath away, or gives it back to you. They aren’t the ones that save you because only you can save yourself. Instead, they are the ones that are constantly there by your side, even when they physically aren’t. They are the ones that without even needing to say a word or hold demands, they continuously give and they give and they give without asking for anything in return.

They are the ones that make you say thank you, thank you, thank you.

They’re the ones that make you want to be the best person you can be, to be someone that you can be proud of. They are the person that makes you realize that you are loved, and want to be loved. They are the words on a page that guide you, the lingering smell of citrus on your fingertips, and the warmth in your stomach after you’ve been fed. They aren’t the person that you can’t live without, because you know, you know you’ve survived all those years before you met them and can continue to do so without them. But they are the ones that help remind you that you have more than just a sole purpose of getting through life like the same record playing over and over again.

You don’t need them, but you want them.

Sometimes when Seongwu stretches his fingers across Minhyun’s back, the wide expanse of space, he sees in his mind’s eye, the mapping of cities of love, like lines drawn so carefully by a cartographer. Sometimes he feels the skittering thud of a heartbeat under his palm as he allows it to rest across Minhyun’s chest, like a rapid acceleration even after all these years. And sometimes, when he places his own hand onto his own chest, guided by Minhyun, he feels the same beautiful cadence settle deep within him.

But always when Seongwu looks at Minhyun, he sees present and future, he sees the person that he loves— he sees his constant inevitability. 

 

 

 

_fin._

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly pm the epitome of the “fuck it i’ll do it myself” meme… if you got through all of this, thank you so much.
> 
> i want to express my sincerest gratitude to my dear friends who never failed to encourage and excite me during this fortnight of darkness (hs, despite all, you are my number one always) and to my brilliant, brilliant kuro ([lucitae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/lucitae)) for the beta and for giving me so much support that i do not deserve in this lifetime or the next.
> 
> a lot of the heart-wrenching references and statistics are taken from [ this ](https://koreaexpose.com/when-your-child-goes-missing/) article. i truly hope one day all the lost children can be found and they too can have their own happy ending with their loved ones. also thanks to knpu for all the real life info - if you were confused with the timeline, [ here ](https://i.imgur.com/Ky1xhet.png/) is their academic schedule, i also tweaked some facts to suit the story, but otherwise i tried to keep it legit.
> 
> hit me up on [twt](https://twitter.com/infede) if you like, otherwise, until next time. ♡ j


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